The figure in the distance was gone.
One moment, the impossible silhouette had been cutting through the violet haze with the steady, inexorable rhythm of a death march; the next, there was only... nothing.
Rex blinked once. Then twice.
His eyelashes felt heavy with dried blood and sweat as he stared at the empty horizon where the intruder had stood. The far reach of the domain held absolutely nothing—no residual energy trails, no displaced air, no fading footsteps.
There was only the same slow, nauseating violet pulse rolling outward toward a horizon that simply did not exist, a seamless repetition of a void he had engineered with surgical precision.
'Where did it go?' His mind screamed. 'There was no displacement.'
'No teleportation signature... No dimensional fold...'
His Divine Perception, a constant, humming subroutine in the back of his consciousness that monitored every molecule of his domain, remained stubbornly silent. It reported the space as empty.
