"According to his words… he met Fate itself. And was chosen to deliver its message." Henry finally said it outright, his voice strained but clear.
"So… he introduces himself as a messenger of Fate." Adyr's voice cut through the air, low and questioning, though there was no uncertainty in it—only cold analysis. "Saying only those chosen by fate can witness the new era... while calling me someone who might try to judge that fate?"
As the words left his lips, the atmosphere shifted—growing heavy and suffocating all at once.
For the first time in that conversation, Adyr's Presence fully emerged. Bloodlust—cold, suffocating, oppressive—spread like black fog throughout the cabin, filling every corner with an unmistakable sense of death.
Henry's muscles locked. He could feel them tensing and spasming against his will as he grasped the true meaning behind Adyr's question.
According to what the Mad Scientist said... Fate itself saw Adyr as a threat. An adversary.
