Silver hair danced behind her in a phantom wind as she saw me and smiled. In her eyes, I saw rage so old that it had its own name. Wrath. “Hello, World Ender,” she purred, shaking fleshy material from her sword. “I have missed you.” I didn’t need perfect vision to know exactly who she was. Her voice erected nightmares filled with fear, death, and blood. Nismera.
