Creations. Enemy of the judges.
In the boundless reaches of the Outworld, a small humanoid figure could be seen standing amidst the vast expanse. The figure was coated in a bright shade of yellow, which stood out in stark contrast to the dark, desolate surroundings. His gaze was fixed upon the stillness of the void-filled wasteland that lay beneath the floating debris, seemingly lost in thought.
It had been a tumultuous time in Outworld. The previous ruler had recently passed away, and the citizens of Outworld were eagerly waiting for a new leader to be born. He knew that whoever ascended to the throne would be renowned as the new ruler of Outworld.
As he sat at the edge of the platform, he idly played with a few pieces of shattered rock that lay scattered around him. He picked them up one by one, examining them closely before tossing them into the void below. The act seemed almost meditative as if he was lost in his own thoughts and trying to make sense of the world around him.
The sound of footsteps emanated from the rear, yet he paid no heed to whoever was approaching. He knew who was coming.
"Morvayn, why are you here?" It was a woman. The sound of her voice traversed a direct path, for there existed no possibility for it to echo within the emptiness.
"Nyxithra, the Mother of Shadows. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Drop it, King in Yellow. I have a few words to say," she declared openly. Her voice was stern. He felt something was going on.
"Sit."
"Don't mind me," she refused. "I'll go straight to the point. Alice is dead—"
"I know," he interrupted.
"How?"
"I saw how it happened. I watched everything from here. In the same spot where I'm sitting," he said.
"What are you going to do from here on?" she asked again.
"Nothing. I have no intention of getting involved in this mess," he quickly answered.
Nyxithra bent down to grab a few shattered rocks as well. "I'm going," she declared.
"Where exactly?"
"To the realm where she is," she answered.
"What will you do?"
". . . It depends."
"Will you serve the new ruler?" Hastur asked.
"If she's worth it."
"And if not?"
"I will kill her."
After that came a moment of silence. Nyxithra decided to throw the rocks into the void and wordlessly left soon thereafter. But before she could completely vanish, he gave her a warning.
"Do as you please. But do be cautious of that thing."
She chuckled. "Are you talking about that singularity?"
He nodded.
"That singularity is not something that you can take on all by yourself. . . just yet. And that mermaid too."
"What?" she almost hissed. "What's the deal with that mermaid?"
Morvayn smiled wickedly. "The fabled spell, Rift."
At that particular moment, an intense feeling of fear surged through her entire being. It was as though terror had taken over her body, consuming her entirely, as soon as those words reached her ears. The only emotion she could register at that moment was fear; a fear so potent that it seemed to have rendered her temporarily immobile. "Are you saying. . ."
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