There: the babbling whimper of a sleeper in anguish. Omega writhes against his own power, the energies pulled from him so brutally before the proper time. He twists and strains but can neither pull free nor fully wake from his nightmare.
When I read this part, the words seem to writhe on the page and rise above the screen...
He caresses his brother’s stone-dark skin and laughs softly at the way Chaos nuzzles his palm the way he used to do when the world was empty of such things as science.