One being remained after the light subsided.
Reign stood at the center of what used to be space, surrounded by ruins of shattered reality.
No ground supported him, no gravity held him—yet he didn't drift. It was as if the universe had simply stopped treating him like something it needed to account for.
His face held something unnatural as he turned slightly toward the Void.
No mouth, no teeth—only a crimson smile made of pure energy, brighter at the edges than the center, as if it were being forced to exist.
"So this is what perfection looks like."
When he spoke, the shape didn't change, and his eyes locked forward—solid red, steady and unblinking, like a warning sign the universe had forgotten to turn off.
His body shifted a fraction, and the darkness that made him up flowed with him instead of resisting.
