Cain observed the conflicted emotions flashing in his sons' eyes but made no attempt to comfort or soften the harsh reality. The universe was a dark, unforgiving place, drenched in blood and pain. If Magnus and Rylanor entered it naively, believing themselves heroes who could save everyone without consequence, they would inevitably perish.
"The people of Aether, and all who follow me loyally, their lives hold more value to me than any treasure imaginable," Cain's voice resonated, cold and sharp as a blade. "However, those who oppose me, obstruct my path, or simply become an inconvenience—they mean absolutely nothing. I find no pleasure in their deaths, but neither do I experience guilt."
Cain raised his hand, and instantly millions of individuals appeared before them, spread throughout the sky. Each person's body was in a horrifying, pitiable state, ravaged internally by grotesque insects consuming their flesh and organs.
