The old man sat down at his dragon sized desk, looking over his dragon sized notebook of plans.
He lifted his dragon sized cup of coffee and gave out a dragon sized sigh.
It was cold. Just like his dragon heart.
Nicol Bolas is no ordinary old man. He’s extremely old. Like older than maybe time itself because he once crushed time into dust with his dragon claws and blew it with his dragon mouth into the eyes of Teferi.
Nicol Bolas’ very own dragon eyes began to water as if they too had been coated in a fine dry misting of crushed time.
The hotness in his eyes began to condense. Tears of sadness? No. Of course not.
Nicol Bolas does not seep melancholy NAY he leaks pure fury.
As the boiling liquid brimmed over his lower eyelid and slid down his cheek, it coalesced and then crystallized into a scalding hot diamond of rage. He held the coffee mug up to his face and the burning crystal splashed into the caffeinated blackness.
He downed the entire contents. Ahhhh, as scalding and bitter as his dragon ass.
Now he could focus.
He threw his empty mug across the room and it shattered against the wall, pieces falling into a pile of shards of its ceramic kin.
He opened his bullet journal and turned to the “Get Your Godhood Back” spread.
Looking at the many, many filled in boxes made him feel encouraged and inspired.
There were only 3 more to fill:
Send out invitations
Vampire all the planeswalkers
Planeswalk into an eldrazi
A twisted smile crawled slowly across his face.