Despite being in complete darkness, the old prisoner could sense what was happening above his head with perfect clarity. To a warrior as powerful and old as he, this darkness might as well be as bright as day.
<
As the old prisoner stood up and brought his attention to the ceiling above him, the aether around him began to stir as he circulated his own. However, mixed into this wild circulation though, was the presence of another type of energy. One that clearly felt...stolen.
<
The prisoner drew back his fist as he came to this decision, the weird energy and his aether coming together into one discordant mess.
As if the two weren't meant to be combined in the first place.
<
_____________________________________________
