As Northern spoke, the Chaos Prince stood frozen in dread. All around him, each one of Northern's clones was tearing him apart, and a single Northern was advancing toward him like an inevitability.
He clenched his fist. His deranged expression from earlier had vanished—he looked at Northern and a mixture of horror and hatred contorted his features.
What had gone wrong?
What had he not accounted for?
What exactly was he missing? Why was Northern so strong and so impossible to kill?
'Did I get outsmarted? By a child? One who hasn't even lived a thousand years?'
This was something he had been preparing for—letting his father kill him, shattering himself into fragments. Missing close to ten thousand years of civilization's development, all for this. To have this moment.
