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Reality is akin to a looking glass… so easily broken.

— A broken philosopher

Moments earlier in a place between time, at a crossroads never traveled, in a universe that didn’t exist, two beings of unimaginable power didn’t meet.

"THAT DIDN’T GO TO PLAN. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE."

The void quivered as the voice thundered, a soundless roar shaking the fabric of nonexistence.

The second being shifted—or at least, something about it suggested movement. “It’s not my fault he couldn’t handle the transfer. Mortals are just so… squishy.”

The void trembled again, this time in anger.

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"YOU PROMISED ME THIS TIME WOULD BE DIFFERENT. THIS IS THE 1,000TH DEATH. WE DON’T HAVE ANY MORE CHANCES. THE CONTRACT IS UNDONE. THAT WAS IT, AND YOU SCREWED US!"

Silence fell, an oppressive nothingness in a space where nothing could exist.

“…We can fix this,” the second being said eventually, breaking the void’s stillness.

The first being shifted its focus—or whatever could pass for focus among entities beyond mortal comprehension. "YOU DON’T MEAN…"

“It’s not exactly playing by the rules,” the second being replied, its tone edged with reluctant resolve. “But frankly, I don’t see another choice.”

A beat of stillness passed, heavy with implications.

"HE DOES OWE YOU A FAVOR."

“…I’ll make the call,” the second being said.

The void twisted in subtle protest as the first being loomed closer, its presence sharp with menace. "IF THIS GOES SOUTH, YOU’RE TAKING THE BLAME."

“Understood,” the second being replied, an air of inevitability hanging on the word. “I’ll contact our brother.”