He looked up at the new hole in the floor of the interior. The green lacuna had finally come to pass. The world would be out of balance for some time to come.
In the wreckage of his tower fortress, Memnarch found Malil, lying on his side, still inside the darksteel Eye. The impervious metal frame of the scrying device had saved them both from being vaporized in the blast.
The Guardian of Mirrodin bent down and touched the metal man’s chest.
Malil’s eyes shot open.
Memnarch smiled. “Come, Malil,” he said. “We have much work to do, much work to do indeed.”