Crota stood in the center of the metal disk, normally a spot where his sword would hover for his awaiting return. Now however, he held the cleaver in his hands, the weapon's tip placed on the disk's surface with his thick hands resting on the pommel. He stood immobile, the only noticeable movement being the barely perceived rise and fall of his chest.
Though around him, a chanting could be heard, the sound like that of hundreds of voices all speaking at once, reciting something unknown. His voice joined the colloquy, its deep tones drowning out the others present. His bowed head and body losing much of its usual glow gave him the appearance of almost sleeping, and for many minutes, this simply continued undisturbed.
Then, as if hearing something, Crota's head shot up, his body becoming ablaze once again in his volatile energy.
For a moment, he simply stood there, lost in his own mind.
Then, a smile began to creep up on his face, growing steadily.
At the same time, a rumbling rose up from his chest, the sound of his laughter once more piercing his nightmare realm.
In a flurry of movement, he now brought his sword from its resting position to full battle readiness, the weapon burning with a new intensity, as if reflecting it's master's own excitement.
"You call to me..." Crota began to speak as he wielded the cleaver directly in front of his vision, even as a green fire began to lick at his feet.
"...And I will answer..." His laughter only continued, still bone chilling in all its glory as the wall of flames slowly rose to surround his entire form, reminiscent of a tornado of fire.
It swirled and grew till it was impossible to see the being within, and just as it began, the fire dissipated, leaving an empty spot where the giant once stood, his laughter still echoing in the endless void.