Rowan came into himself from his brief musing on the vision the weapon showed him. Not just any weapon, its name was Envy.
It was a strange name for a weapon. It was a strange name for anything as a matter of speaking.
The weapon had now lost every green coloration it had, right now, it appeared a bit rusted, with bumps and scratches as if it was corroded by acid. Veins of gold snaked all over the weapon, and they seemed to pulse in accordance with his breathing.
The weapon appeared old and harmless, but the constant hum that it emanated was proof enough of its shocking lethality. Rowan feared that only Dominators that were in the latter parts of the Incarnation state or higher could hold this weapon, or anyone else would simply be vaporized just by touching it.
