One last obstacle to dispense, one last gateway barring their path. As the presence of the Innocence rises once again, all they need do is take hold, to send the arrow though the window of Estinien's soul straight into its heart. Perhaps the Innocence sees it as a final act of defiance, to block them from destroying this one man. To sacrifice itself to do so. The Regent doesn't care how it justifies it.
Instead, they are only interested in seizing the opportunity they've been given. Their power flows into Estinien's soul with a force that would surely shatter him if not for the Innocence sheltering him, taking his pain as its own. There are limits to what even the Pleroma can bear, the Regent well knows. They need only apply it.
Tossing their wine glass aside, they thrust their other hand into Estinien's chest, the sheer force of the destruction unleashed enough to cause the skin of the Kenoma congregated there to prickle and burn, for their shards to vibrate like sound through glass. For a moment, they will see nothing, their vision consumed by an emptiness that sucks away all light, all warmth, all will to remain.
It's not an explosion, or a beam of malevolent energy. It's sheer existential resentment of existence that cuts through Estinien and into the soul of the Innocence, unmaking everything it has become.
When reality begins to settle, when the Kenoma remember that they are still alive, they will see the throne room much the same as they did before. The difference lies in the absence of dark spears, the absence of Estinien and the Innocence.
All that remains is Estinien's shard in the Regent's hand, fallen to the gray of the Untouched, its colorful sheen gone in favor of blackened scars. For those with True Sight, not even his Legacy will show.
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One last obstacle to dispense, one last gateway barring their path. As the presence of the Innocence rises once again, all they need do is take hold, to send the arrow though the window of Estinien's soul straight into its heart. Perhaps the Innocence sees it as a final act of defiance, to block them from destroying this one man. To sacrifice itself to do so. The Regent doesn't care how it justifies it.
Instead, they are only interested in seizing the opportunity they've been given. Their power flows into Estinien's soul with a force that would surely shatter him if not for the Innocence sheltering him, taking his pain as its own. There are limits to what even the Pleroma can bear, the Regent well knows. They need only apply it.
Tossing their wine glass aside, they thrust their other hand into Estinien's chest, the sheer force of the destruction unleashed enough to cause the skin of the Kenoma congregated there to prickle and burn, for their shards to vibrate like sound through glass. For a moment, they will see nothing, their vision consumed by an emptiness that sucks away all light, all warmth, all will to remain.
It's not an explosion, or a beam of malevolent energy. It's sheer existential resentment of existence that cuts through Estinien and into the soul of the Innocence, unmaking everything it has become.
When reality begins to settle, when the Kenoma remember that they are still alive, they will see the throne room much the same as they did before. The difference lies in the absence of dark spears, the absence of Estinien and the Innocence.
All that remains is Estinien's shard in the Regent's hand, fallen to the gray of the Untouched, its colorful sheen gone in favor of blackened scars. For those with True Sight, not even his Legacy will show.