Epilogue: Machinations of the Madmen
Two men sat in a dimly lit room, one dressed in black and the other in white, each with the hair to match.
"The prophecy didn't come to pass. The Dark One was stopped by the light of his own world." The one in black said.
"All the more evidence to the randomness of the universe, if even the gods are controlled by the hands of fate." The one in white replied.
"What shall we do now, brother?" The one in black inquired.
"What we always do, my brother. We forge onward towards the True End." The one in white replied.
"Sounds excellent. Mr. Torchwick and the Dark One's minion are probably still collaborating, the White Fang doubtlessly has persevered against the storm, the Coalition is likely to have survived as they always do, and Ms. Fall is bound to be roaming about the aftermath. We should use them." The one in black concluded.
"Impeccable idea, brother." The one in white praised. "Together, we can finish out the prophecy as intended."