A vast throne room.
...Streams of lava flowing through the cracks in its floor.
A line of about a dozen gargoyle monsters...
...A throne of darkness, lined with the skulls of defeated creatures.
And Her.
A dark gown spreading onto the ground like a waterfall, pale white arms resting on the throne's armrests, her body leaning into the corner of the throne.
Absolute silence covered everywhere as she remained still.
Yet all at once...
There was a slight tremor, and she stirred from her rest, her eyes locking onto a corner of the throne room.
There was seemingly nothing there but a pillar that supported the ceiling, yet her nebula-like eyes narrowed at it, staring intently for about ten seconds before she sat up properly upon her throne.
Her fingers laced together, her jaw resting upon them.
"Quite a number of years might have passed, but still, I did not expect you to master its power so quickly, White... Or should I say, Umbrawyric King?"
