Inside the chamber of the Devouring War Form, the victorious atmosphere completely evaporated. Sephiran and Vermi were now lined up against the wall, their heads bowed as they faced the absolute wrath of their eldest brother, Arach.
Arach stood towering over them, his massive frame casting a suffocating shadow. His six powerful arms were splayed out in a variety of random, furious positions—one pair crossed tightly over his chest, another gesturing wildly at the messy floor, and the third pointing directly at the two troublemakers.
"What were you two thinking?!"
Arach's voice rumbled like an earthquake through the cavern.
He was scolding them intensely, but beneath the booming reprimand, there was a hidden layer of profound, protective gentleness. He wasn't just angry; he had been worried out of his mind.
