"So… a feast…"
In the third layer of space, a being stood up from a throne made of bones.Each bone radiating the aura at the peak of rank 3.
He looked at his colleagues. Each of them had once risked their lives when humanity entered the interstellar era… and now, the very race they swore to protect—they had turned into beasts to devour it?
"Tch… what took you so long to realize?" the man said. He wore dark robes, and a lingering dark aura surrounded him.
"I mean, how many resources can your so-called power or organization bring forth? Can they sustain what is needed for Omniversal beings to return to their peak?
The resources we need can create several multi universal beings.
Pathetic."
The man spoke as the rest of the old men sighed.
This being, among all of them was one of the most feared, and everyone stayed away from him.
His nickname was the God of Death.
