Far away from where Feng Biao was sitting lay a throne. On that immaculate obsidian throne with intricate carvings depicting human sacrifice, and a sun emerging ahead of 4 others, broken in response, lay a creature.
It was hard to make it out. Most could only see smoke, black as the darkest night filling up space in the shape of a man. If one could peer beyond this they might see a jaguar in the shape of a man, although few ever could.
However, neither of these things represented what actually sat on that throne. No, his true form was actually more like-
And yet he sat, undisturbed and unmoving. Despite the noise. Was there noise where he sat? No, he sat in silence, but it heard a noise, constantly. The noise of humanity. From every mirror, from every place, lay a window to humanity that was open.
It could hear them, every word they said, it could see them, every action they took. For a human, an action like this would be inconceivable. However, the thing on the throne wasn't human. All beings like him were used to existence like this, it wasn't much to add observing humans to its list of perception.
In front of the being, in front of the throne, was a mirror. A mirror of obsidian, a mirror with blood from a freshly squeezed heart he had pulled from a screaming man running over it. That man was a warrior. That was good, he always thought that warriors were the best for this purpose.
Children lacked the resolve to die. Warriors had stronger hearts. Although, he was willing to take a child if his resolve was strong enough to be a warrior.
As the blood washed over the mirror it saw possibilities, endless possibilities, he was searching for a particular possibility. One where he may rid himself of this burning venom that had infested his body.
Once again, it saw no answer. So he pulled another man, who did not scream and instead took the opportunity to launch a final assault on him.
"[Fire's of -"
He quickly moved his hands into the man's chest and removed his heart as well. It was more excited about this one. A true warrior to his death, that was good, that was the best.
As he squeezed it onto the mirror it saw the endless stream of the unending future once again. This time, for the first time, it finally saw a possibility to rid himself of the poison that had been ailing him.
Years of dealing with humans waiting for the time it had seen all those years ago to come had led that single one to harm him. At the time he hadn't even noticed. To be honest he had trouble remembering humans in general.
Two stuck out in his mind. That man who fought him with the might of an actual Divinity. That had been surprising. And that man who had harmed him a decade ago. So close to the promised time.
He had been too confident, he felt and knew no human could ever harm him unless-
Still, at least he reasoned it would soon come to an end. The pain was quite intense. If he was a human he certainly would have killed himself.
At all times within his mouth, he felt burning more intense than the hottest fire, with every breath he took he felt a pain attack every part of his essence needling it with a feeling of it all being ripped from him.
He wasn't human, this was only a major inconvenience, not a life-ending ailment. Although, he needed it cured before that time came, or he would certainly fall.
Beside him on the throne was an arm. He had it preserved, it respected the warrior who did this to him. He had let him escape as he had offered enough sacrifices to preserve his own life. Had he known the man had actually damaged him he would have offered him a place by his side as one of his proud elite.
Sometimes he saw the man in mirrors, but he only felt disgusted, without his arm he was not the same. The connection he had to that foreign Divinity was gone, and so was his spirit. It only enforced his belief humans shone brightest when dying in combat.
He felt regret, he had denied humanities' greatest warrior an honorable death. This was a mistake, he was after all not infallible.
So he reached into the mirror and pulled a man called by many as "Strong Man Zhou" into it. Of course, Zhou did not fit into the tiny mirror he was pulled into, and his body was crushed as a result.
This was fine, his soul was all he wished for. Now that he had a solution for the, what had he called it again? He forgot, but it was of little importance. Now that he had found a way to cure it he had promised himself he would make amends with Strong Man Zhou, a human he could actually remember.
He would take his soul and make sure he could be put back together into something worthy of an elite. He was excited, if a Foreign Divinity impure as the one Zhou had could harm him what more could those who shared his status do? A true battle would come soon, one where he would right wrongs that he felt were long overdue.
And so on a throne of obsidian in a room without noise sat a being of immense power. It would do battle with the Divinities of those accursed people who had touched its land all those years ago and dominate them. It would strip them of their culture and replace their faith with that of his own being.
And it would wait until they were there to see it. Until they could try and stop him so that he could feel the satisfaction of ripping their hearts out and feasting on them. Satisfied that he had done so with a warrior's fight.
As the winner, he had already set his sights beyond his own and decided the next step was conquering theirs. It was quite pleased with what he was planning and what he had done. Just by being the only Divinity whose Fragment had successfully manifested, he had already elevated the it beside him to greater heights.
He stood up from its throne and looked through the mirror into all mirrors. He saw it and laughed. And they both laughed.
And the mirror shattered.