Auren didn't know how Devourer truly worked. It consumed everything—matter, memory, even death itself. So who was to say it couldn't devour swords? Or a throne?
More importantly, those two things hadn't felt inanimate. They had presence, like sentient remnants clinging to form.
Maybe Devourer had marked them the moment he read their memories. Maybe it had found them appetizing. Familiar. Delicious.
'What am I even saying? I don't know if this is even Devourer's work.'
He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face and casting one last glance around the hollow, now eerily sterile hall.
'Back to the real question… how do I leave this place?'
Suddenly, a flicker danced across his vision—new runes pulsing softly in the darkness.
[Congratulations!]
Auren raised a brow. Warily.
'What now?'
[Devourer has successfully devoured the Home of Rage.]
'What?!'
He was right, then. Devourer had done it. Unbelievable!
'How hungry are you…?'
