The chamber fell silent, save for the gentle, rhythmic pulse of the Heart of Creation floating serenely above the dais.
Dust motes, the final remnants of four Heavenly Talents, drifted lazily in the ambient light.
The Dragon Prince stood amidst the echoes of annihilation, his azure aura subtly enhanced by the faint, absorbed energies of crimson, gold, emerald, and abyss.
His gaze lifted, fixing solely on the prize.
The Heart of Creation.
It pulsed. A symphony of cosmic potential. The very essence of a nascent universe, condensed into a single, irresistible jewel.
'Finally,' the Dragon Prince thought, a sliver of ancient longing surfacing. 'The core.'
He could feel its power calling to him now, resonating with the stolen Providence swirling within his clone vessel.
