Karya's conversation with the Mother of Masks had been brief, but it carried a great deal of meaning. Both sides thought they had come out ahead; they just didn't know who would end up losing.
The outcome of this contest of wills would probably take a long time to emerge. For the Mother of Masks, this was a move she could afford to leave in reserve; for Karya, it was a long-term play.
Everything would have an outcome, but not now.
What mattered most to Karya now was to bring the undead of the Land of the Undead into this and give the Noxians a little taste of insecurity. He wanted to see what path they would take under his pressure.
Would they stake everything on one reckless gamble, or would they pull back from the brink at the last moment?
Karya crossed the veil between life and death and entered the Land of the Undead without a hitch.
Even though he had been prepared, the price of crossing the veil between life and death far exceeded his expectations.
The elemental body he had fashioned for himself dissolved like shifting sand under the erosion of death. His small world, too, could neither contain nor accept death. When Karya took a step and passed through the veil, for once, he became himself again.
For Karya, it was an ancient experience, one he hadn't known for a very, very long time.
He had willingly given up immortality on Mount Targon, so in the Land of the Undead, he did not regain the body of an Ascended. Instead, he walked across this desolate, silent land like an ordinary mortal.
The veil between life and death was like a waterfall. It washed away the Void's erosion of Karya, along with the many layers