Home. For so long, it had been Silver Cove, but he had never really felt. It had never really been his, never truly drawn him, kept him. But this, this is different. This is the land of his God. The land made just for them.
And it is perfect.
It might be a barren wasteland, but it is beautiful. The wide stretches of dust, the broken canyons, the empty river. A perfectly desolate hell for the monsters that would call it home.
His scarred, gnarled, hairless skin blends with the gray landscape as though he had been made for this horror. In a way, he had been. Carnage had made them both.
There is no question he would stay, would make this desolate patch of land his home, would bow willingly to its king. He follows because he knows this is his destiny, knows this is what he had been born for. With a grotesque smile upon his cracked lips, he steps before his king (his god), and says simply, ”I will stay.”