Above the skies of Stellarburg, a sea of black liquid spread far and wide, its tainted aura of desire obscuring the heavens.
Shadowcloud's figure had vanished from sight.
Rean, holding a staff in his hand, stood in the middle of this black ocean, his white robe spotlessly clean, a stark contrast against the dark surroundings.
Were it not for the black liquid constantly bubbling up from beneath his feet, Rean would hardly look the part of a high priest of a cult; instead, he might be mistaken for an ordinary priest.
Rean spoke in a calm voice, "Shadowcloud, after all these years, you've sacrificed so much for the Federation, endured so much hardship. Why insist on risking these old bones? Haven't you seen through the true faces of the Federation and those families by now?"
The sky above, where the black sea churned up waves, answered him with nothing but silence.
Rean frowned.
Shadowcloud's appearance had been unexpected.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!