The Celestial’s realm darkened considerably, and the light from the stars and planets eclipsed as sound siphoned away. Only emptiness and a hollow sense of presence loomed eerily.

A human hand and then the obsidian of a Celestial claw burst into existence. 

“Things are working to plan, Ru,” whispered the human, his green eyes bright with excitement.

The obsidian claw snapped and crackled, unwinding and unraveling like yarn made of bones. 

“Rumors of Ku and Radhildur are worsening. I think with just a little more of a push and we’ll have everything right where we want them.”

Ru stood like a mountain, tall and foreboding. It had a singular orb at the center of its head that glittered a deep and stormy blue, like the center of a sea during a hurricane. Turbulent and wavering, altogether unforgiving. 

The human egged on, completely unphased by the monstrous Celestial before him.

“All it took was a few scared citizens, a few missing people, and poof. The already tarnished reputation of the fearsome Ku and its bag of tricks became worse. I would’ve never imagined how quickly things would spread.”

“Wildfires are renowned for their swift movement, their brutal hunger,” Ru rumbled lowly. “Bear in mind, little prince, that fires have no qualms on what or who they consume. This will burn through you without any remorse if you are not careful.”

“Please, I have nothing to worry about. Nobody trusts Radhuildur because of what she is. And I’m the least likely suspect here. I’m the victim, actually.”

Ru gave a disbelieving growl.

“Ru, my planning is perfect. There’s nothing to worry about, this will work. I will have my princess and you will survive your sibling. Everything will continue to move forward as it should.”

“That is not my worry,” Ru murmured. “The corruption and disappearance of a Celestial tips the balance of order. Are we sure that is something we still desire?”

The light began to seep back into the empty Atrium and the stirring of other Celestials shook the empty space. 

“You feel stronger, don’t you? More alive and real,” the human demanded before walking away. “Morn must just be round the corner, the worst should have come to pass already—Ku should be gone. Eaten away by idle gossip that umade it completely.”

The Celestial had nothing to say to that. It quivered, its image staggering and rippling as if it blipped in and out of being for just one moment. Perhaps to verify whether or not the patron of ruckus truly had withered.

Chuckling, the human waved as he left. “I’ll take my leave. See you around, Ru.”

The human disappeared with a fizzle of energy, leaving the blue-eyed celestial to itself. It wavered, like a broken reflection on water.