Aaron Sinclair stood his ground, tilting his head up to look at the eye in the sky. It was a horizontal eye, crimson and ferocious.
A single glance was enough to feel the countless souls wailing in agony within it. He had also clearly heard the voice from before—it wanted to absorb the energy of this world.
He didn't know what energy this world possessed that was worth coveting, but if the entity succeeded, it would undoubtedly spell disaster.
The voice came again.
Everyone could hear it.
"It's you... It really is you."
The eye stared intently at Aaron Sinclair, widening as if it had seen the impossible. Within its gaze, he could even detect a mixture of probing and fear.
"How is this possible? You obviously perished completely. You can't be him. Who are you? That man's Primordial Spirit was utterly destroyed a thousand years ago."
'So, who does this thing think I am?'
