"Little worm," Dark said, his voice carrying the same careless ease it had carried through everything that had preceded this, as though the shifting, impossible monstrosity assembling itself across the mirror ocean from him was simply the latest entry in a long list of unremarkable Tuesdays. "You have certainly decided to make your final minutes as painful and as insane as possible."
A small chuckle followed the observation, unhurried and genuine.
"You made me, you monster." Envy's voice came out layered and overlapping. "I will drag you to Hell even if it costs me my life and my sanity."
The thousand voices beneath his own were grinding against each other like shifting teeth and fangs that could not agree on their arrangement, a constant low-level war within the sound itself for which shape to hold.
He was not speaking in metaphor.
