The swirling dust storm began to settle with an eerie calmness, as though savoring each passing moment. From within the thinning veil of dust, two towering figures gradually emerged into view, each standing no less than eight feet tall.
Both exuded an overwhelming presence, their broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading storm. One bore crimson eyes and jet-black hair, with dark threads coursing visibly through his body as he stood in quiet stillness. The other possessed glacial blue eyes and hair, his posture relaxed, calm, untouched by the chaos around him.
They were none other than Orvak; the Sinvaira of Carnage, and Malrik Wargrave; the First Sun.
Malrik stood effortlessly, grasping Orvak's wrist as if it were the simplest task in the world. His other hand remained casually tucked into his pocket.
"Hey, sis. I let you have your fun, so don't whine to me now that I showed up to save you," he said, his voice calm and unhurried, yet it carried clearly to Wuthenya's ears.
