The landscape of Luna's mind was a shattered mirror reflecting a dying cosmos. Around the small, silver island of consciousness that Scarlett fiercely protected, nebulae of stolen memories swirled in agonized patterns. Into this psychic wreckage, Alexander's presence had erupted like a supernova—a blazing, untamed constellation of pure will, his Alpha essence a roaring challenge to the invading void.
Hunger-Damien stood at the center of it all, an event horizon of nothingness. The cold that seeped from him was not a temperature but an absolute, the end of all stories.
"This defiance is meaningless," his thought-voice echoed, a black hole sucking at the very concept of sound. "Your love is a transient chemical reaction. Your will is a spark soon extinguished. I am the silence that remains."
He did not attack them physically. He simply opened himself.
