It was just RIGHT.
Atrox knew the artifact came with his Mark Order without anyone telling him. It was his. His inheritance. And he wanted it. He stretched out his hand to take it, but the old man didn't allow it. He moved it to the side.
"Yours? Maybe. It is mine as well." His voice was like someone commenting on the weather. It lacked the urgency and desperation that molded Atrox's own.
Vorgaelor shifted, his eyes flickering to the wall. The two images were still there, but the lantern was gone as if it had never existed. He gritted his teeth so hard they crunched.
Years of planning! But still, all wasn't lost. He just needed to keep his life. His original plan was to find a way to overload the Rift with a large amount of essence to loosen the law binding it a little, allowing a massive Rift break to occur, sending armies of monsters outside.
