[VOLUME 16: THE FIRES OF GENESIS][ARC 3: THE SHADOWED REFLECTION]
Walking through the Whispering Canyon was already a psychological nightmare. Walking through it while chaperoning two identical, bickering Primevals of Chaos was a profound test of Elara's sanity.
"I know for a fact that the Emperor of Light spends at least forty-five minutes a day polishing his sword hilt!" the Wukong on the left announced loudly to the grey fog. "A purely cosmetic endeavor! Tell them, sweetheart! Tell them I'm the real one!"
"That proves nothing!" the Wukong on the right yelled, hopping over a jagged obsidian rock. "I know that Aldren secretly trims his chest hair with abyssal shears so it looks more 'aesthetically brooding' in the moonlight! It's pathetic!"
Ahead of them, Aldren stumbled, his massive shoulders going rigid. A dark, furious flush crept up the back of his neck.
