The smile on Asterion's face was wrong.
It stretched just a little too far.
Not enough to look grotesque...
But enough that everyone present immediately understood.
The man standing before them was no longer Asterion.
The last trace of gold had disappeared from his eyes.
Two endless voids stared back at the world.
John felt a chill run down his spine.
Not because of killing intent.
There wasn't any.
That was what frightened him most.
The being before him regarded every living creature the same way a person might look at falling leaves.
Without hatred.
Without affection.
Simply...
As something that existed.
---
Dark tendrils continued climbing the World Tree.
Wherever they passed, vibrant golden bark dulled.
Branches that had stood proudly for countless ages began to wither.
Glowing leaves drifted toward the earth.
Not gently this time.
They crumbled into black ash before touching the ground.
John's chest tightened.
