Spark of light erupted from where Reynold stood. The explosion of light that followed was overwhelming, so bright that even the endless void seemed to shrink away from it.
For a brief stretch of time, the world lost all shape and meaning. Above and below, ruin and emptiness, no longer existed as separate things.
There was only light, vast, silent, and expanding in slow waves, as if the very fabric of existence had been forced to bow before a higher will.
Space itself trembled. Invisible layers quivered and twisted, strained to their limit, before the brilliance finally began to fade.
When the light receded, Reynold was still there.
He hovered quietly above the broken flatland, exactly where he had been before, yet he was no longer the same man.
The thick scent of blood that once clung to him had vanished completely. In its place lingered a presence that felt distant and untouchable, like a ruler gazing down from a throne no one could see.
