In the sky above.
The enormous void, tens of thousands of meters wide, now resembled a delicate, fragile vagina, brutally torn open by a dark force.
With a violent rupture, Desolate slowly emerged from the void, tearing apart the rift that had desperately tried to close.
At this moment, Desolate was covered in horrific, jagged scars, with his left arm having been obliterated by some unknown attack, completely missing. One of his eyes had turned into a hollow, bloodied pit, a sight too dreadful to behold.
However, the overwhelming, invincible aura emanating from him, infused with the dominance and terror of an ancient age, surged unabashedly around him, spreading far and wide.
His remaining eye showed no emotion at all, as though these terrifying injuries did nothing to affect his will.
Standing before the void, Desolate looked up at the sky, took a deep breath of the cool air, then lowered his head. His massive single eye fixed directly on Sterl.
