"Finally..." Ryuk muttered beneath his breath as he raised his gaze to the cloaked figure before him.
The figure was shrouded in black robes that concealed every detail, crouched low to the ground.
One hand gripped a staff wrapped in white bandages, Abyssal Flames bleeding through the cracks, while the other cradled the fading ashes of Morne, drifting slowly into the wind.
"You ever felt the pain? The pain of losing a life?" he asked.
Silence consumed the area.
The only sound was a haunting howl—a piercing scream radiating from beneath the robes of the figure before him.
"Morne was a great companion, but death is merely a delayed truth. I saw this coming years ago."
"Why should I mourn a truth I've already accepted?" he replied, lifting his head to meet Ryuk's gaze.
From beneath the shadowed hood, a pair of crimson eyes gleamed.
They exuded an aura seemingly capable of incinerating the world with sheer intensity.
