The moment Devil extended his hands forward, the air around him shifted. Gone was the aura of a man weighing his choices. What remained was a man who had already decided on the path he would pursue.
His two arms stretched outward, palms hovering over the table.
Then…
No words. No incantation. No hand signs.
Just raw power.
From his palms, earth began to swirl into existence. Grains of dust stirred, compacting, molding. At first, they created a formless mass, before slowly transforming into something very recognizable.
Two figures emerged under his two palms. Their stony visages were hardened into perfect replicas.
