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... efore either of them got caught up in something. He found the Runescribe picking up a large urn of ink from Myth. In the following conversation, he learned that the shininess of the liquid didn’t only come from Tel, but also from Arcane Crysts, though not as many of them. For Muffle runes, Romer needed Arcane-aspected ink, and that’s where Myth came in.

Normally when Tel and Crysts were shattered—which took quite a bit of doing—they would dissolve away into nothing, much like the bizarre ...

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One soul belonging to a man who had reached the peak, the strongest there ever was, the one who had the talent to do so. Yet he suffered because of his talent. His soul shone as bright as a galaxy once, but now is but a sun. His talents made him the envy of all.

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He was born from Chaos And Ice and a fraction of light, Yet manipulated Space.

His abilities were so powerful they were harmful to his body.

His talent is as infinite as the boundless cosmos.

His enemies were greater than one could count.

His luck is worse than shit.

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He continued to fight, not believing in the bullshit that was destiny.