Spokeishere

The void crackled and stretched endlessly around him, alive with quiet, simmering energy. Spoke drifted through it like it was nothing—like it belonged to him—because it did. This was his domain. His rules. His power.

At the center of it all, the singular command block pulsed, suspended in the emptiness. Each flicker of light sent sharp, electric veins of energy rippling through the void, bending reality itself to his will. It wasn’t just a source of power—it was his power, and he reveled in it.

Who could stop him?

No one.

His glowing eyes flicked toward the distant, crumbling island—a fragile, out-of-place thing barely holding itself together against the pressure of the void. And there, exactly where he left them, stood the one he couldn’t seem to let go of.

A slow, crooked grin spread across his face.

In an instant, he vanished—only to reappear soundlessly behind the figure.

“Heh… you see it?” he murmured, voice low and laced with amusement.

His tail lashed in a heavy swish, the force of it turning his body slightly as he hovered just off the ground. The command block flared brighter in the distance, responding, almost like it knew he was being admired.

Spoke tilted his head, eyes glowing a little sharper.

“The way it glows…” he continued, softer now, almost reverent—but still smug. “Kinda mesmerizing, right?”

A pause. Then a quiet, breathy chuckle.

“…Beautiful.”