"Why would worlds converge on this one…?"
His voice was quieter now, almost lost beneath the distant sounds of training.
"Why a war on this world…?"
The golden light in his palm flickered faintly.
"Why would gods fight over a desolate planet, overrun with mindless beasts and a barely surviving humanity…?"
For a moment, there was no response.
Only the low hum of power in the air. The distant clash of steel. The beat of wings overhead.
Then,
a soft chuckle echoed in his mind.
Low. Amused.
"You're asking the wrong questions, brother."
Alister's gaze sharpened slightly.
Alameck's voice continued, slower now, more deliberate.
"Not why they would come here…"
A pause.
"But what could possibly be here… that would make them unable to stay away."
Silence followed.
He let the words settle.
Alister's fingers curled slightly, the golden light compressing instinctively in his grasp.
"…You're suggesting this world isn't the battlefield," he said inwardly.
Alameck hummed.
