Black hair, gray eyes, a dark shirt and trousers.
No armor, no weapons, nothing that looked like he was ready to fight.
He simply stood there, at the center of the dark red sun, within the torrent of energy from Knull's self-destruction, at the edge of death.
Loren Morgan.
He raised his right hand, spreading his fingers toward the center of the dark red sun.
Black light poured from his palm. It was not an attack, but devouring—faster than the Necrosword's devouring, deeper, more complete.
The dark red energy was compressed, transformed, and absorbed before his palm, like water flowing into a bottomless pit. There was no sound, no trace, no residue.
The dark red sun began to shrink, from several hundred meters in diameter to several dozen, from several dozen meters to a few, then from a few meters to the size of a fist.
That fist-sized sphere of energy spun above his palm, dark red and unstable, like a wild beast trapped in a cage.
Loren clenched his fist.
The sphere shattered. It was not an explosion—it was Oblivion!
Dark red energy seeped through his fingers, turning into black smoke in the air before fading away.
All the energy from Knull's self-destruction—the power enough to destroy Chaos Space, kill Lazuli Eve, and tear apart the barrier of reality—had been completely devoured by Loren alone, with one hand, in a single clench.
His body shone as he devoured the energy.
Black light surged from beneath his skin, brighter, more dazzling, and purer than before.
His eyes turned black. There were no pupils, no irises, only two warm lights burning in the darkness.
His hair drifted within the energy field, changing from black to an almost transparent white, every strand seeming to be woven from light.
Knull's energy flowed through