Glasya-Labolas' eyes widened as he realized: he had been defeated. Not through debate, not through unraveling of knowledge, not through the endless games of logic and lies he and Orobas so loved. No. His defeat had come with the simplest, purest expression of power, one single slash of Taufik's katana.
His body trembled, his voice cracked, whispering as if to no one but himself, "… Impossible…"
"Impossible? You tried to reject reality, but in front of me, all of that is mere child's play. Look at me… and remember the reality you tried so hard to forget"
Glasya-Labolas slowly lifted his head, his ink-dark pupils dilated. What he met was not the face of a weary man nor a wounded foe, but those golden eyes.
The same eyes that had once pierced through him, stripping away every layer of illusion, every falsehood he had wrapped himself in. Eyes that saw not only the truth… but the death hidden within it.
