"My brother, where do you think you're running? Or perhaps, how do you wish to die..." The cold voice of the Mimic Venerable King echoed, and the Seventh Apostle's eye, as immense as the stars, trembled in that moment.
The Seventh Apostle was terrified, filled with dread, hiding in this Subspace rift all this time just to avoid conflict with the Apostles and the Interstellar Corps. Even the Subspace world He created and the humans on it were moved little by little over the millennia.
Every time, only hundreds or thousands were relocated, spread across various civilizations and worlds, just so as not to arouse the suspicion of the other Apostles or the Interstellar Corps, developing slowly in this way.
But why, why did such caution lead to the arrival of the Interstellar Corps!
Curse those bastards!
He stared daggers at those four veterans, wishing he could just kill them, but he couldn't, because they were the completers of the ritual, beings protected by his authority.
