Single for Eternity

"A self-consuming and self-renewing force, representing endless transformation," Einar murmured, almost to himself, voice low as though reciting an ancient truth he barely recalled.

Seren tilted her head, a hint of confusion in her narrowed crimson eyes. "Ouroboros...? That symbol. What does it have to do with you killing that thing in one blow?"

Einar let out a slow breath, his gaze flicking to his palm. The glowing mark—the serpent devouring its own tail—still lingered there, albeit faint, like an ember struggling to stay lit.

He clenched his hand and continued, "Ouroboros is more than just a symbol. It’s transformation. Rebirth. Death and resurrection, locked in a perfect, eternal cycle. It’s the force of becoming and unbecoming. Of decay and renewal." He paused, then added, "Which... is fundamentally incompatible with the nature of undeath."

Realization dawned on Seren. Her brows furrowed as she began to understand. "Undeath... is stagnant. It defies the cycle. The undead don’t move forward. They don’t decay or evolve. They’re trapped in stillness."

Einar nodded. "Exactly. The creature Malthorn summoned—that thing... it was a blight on the cycle. A violation of the cosmic law Ouroboros represents. That’s probably why the Eye responded."

Seren’s gaze lingered on the fading mark on his palm, then drifted to the heavens, where the colossal golden eye still hovered in the sky, unblinking. Its presence was overwhelming—silent, cold, and utterly unmoved.

But suddenly, an enraged roar tore through the battlefield.

Malthorn, half-decayed and pulsing with venomous undead aether, screamed toward the heavens. "You foul being!" he bellowed, voice ragged and warped. "Do not meddle in matters that do not concern you!"

The eye gave no response. No reaction. It merely blinked—slow, deliberate, and utterly indifferent.

That disregard, more than anything, infuriated Malthorn. His skeletal hands crackled with violet necrotic energy.