Far from the Federation's hopeful prayers and desperate faith, in a location hidden from mortal eyes, where darkness pooled thick enough to have weight...
Voices rang across a hall that shouldn't exist, carrying celebration that made the shadows tremble.
"He's dead!"
Kinsley's laughter exploded with force that echoed off walls invisible in the gloom.
"He's finally DEAD! That meddling bastard is gone!"
His voice rose higher, building toward something approaching hysteria.
"Two hundred years! Two hundred years of his interference, his visions, his constant manipulation of every situation..."
Another burst of laughter, sharper than before.
"And now he's NOTHING! Just another corpse scattered across the void! Hahahaha!"
Ashford shifted his weight, his grey eyes tracking across where Kinsley paced with manic energy.
His whisper emerged cautious, carrying warning underneath.
"Brother Kinsley, I don't think we should be celebrating quite yet."
