The Absolute Zero Nether-Mist rolled across the glass-fused dark rock floor like a tidal wave of liquid shadow.
Wherever the black fog touched, existence itself seemed to surrender.
Tiny dust motes hovering in the underground air froze solid, dropping to the floor like tiny lead shot.
The surrounding light emitted by the golden runes on the distant Sovereign Stele bowed backward, refracting through the dense, negative-energy haze until it dimmed into a sickly, dying twilight.
From the heart of the ten-thousand-foot void avatar, Demon Monarch Mo Sha looked down upon Frank.
The demon monarch didn’t merely attack with brute elemental force.
He attacked with the weight of an eternal philosophy—the ancient, soul-crushing doctrine of the Nihilistic Void.
“Insects,” Mo Sha’s voice boomed. He shook through the mantle with the dark majesty of a funeral dirge sung for dead galaxies. “Look upon this world. Look upon your fragile flesh, your pathetic tools, your childish pride.”
