The Master of Truth had always been watching. Although unclear about what had happened, how could It allow the prey at hand to escape again?
"This is not truth, this is paradox."
In an instant, everything reversed.
As if space itself had shifted, that hand and the symbols appeared in front of the twisted human head, frozen in place, unable to move.
"So, it was you."
The Master of Truth murmured softly.
It was that human who once caught Its attention.
Heard that Its followers had been given a rather hard time by him.
Initially, It had thought to wrench this human from the god standing behind him.
Unexpectedly, he had quite the backbone, burning his soul to launch an attack against It, only to be rebuffed by Its divine power. Logically, he should have been dead beyond doubt.
The Master of Truth glanced at the fellow still shrouded in starlight who seemed yet to react.
Had some soul fragments been preserved in advance to resurrect this human?