Four hundred years passed.
Apexion stood on his path with countless fate strings in his right palm. Around him rotated two six-tier True Meanings, Life and Death.
Unlike his other tier-six True Meanings, he made sure not to add his individuality to them the reason being he didn't want to bind them to himself, for the source of these concepts already belonged to another: the Death and Life Pathfinder, an entity he was sure he couldn't face at this moment.
So, in order not to anger that entity and possibly be killed across time, he refrained from making them his own.
For even though it is said that the Alpha Pathfinders are most likely dead, sealed, or too broken to operate on their own, he didn't quite believe it and even if it were true, he didn't believe they still couldn't kill a being below the 9th tier even in their broken state.
He cleared his thoughts, gazed toward a certain direction, and muttered softly,
"It's about time."
