The world seemed to grow quiet around Ashmaker.
All sounds were muffled, all colors dull. Light spilled at him from the opening to the Void next to him, and all he saw were shades of white and gray. There was nothing there.
Just as there was nothing inside of him at that very moment. No Qi. No Primordial energy.
Just emptiness.
That, and the understanding that he had died. An Immortal, one who came out of nowhere and stole his power and his title, had now gone a step beyond and stolen from him one of his ten total lives.
Nothing had managed to anger him more than this.
He turned toward the distance where Alex lay unconscious and moved. Splinters of space cut him as he moved, but the crown healed him again and again, helping him quickly fix his wounds. Power gathered around him, weaker than what he could normally produce, but strong enough to kill a mere Immortal.
