All laws are statements of the celestials, meant to govern reality. One doesn't take precedence over another—they exist to affect different scenarios under different conditions.
Whatever her title was, it had just prevented him from judging her.
He wasn't looking at a destabilizer anymore.
He was looking at a being that disregarded the concepts of laws themselves.
That didn't make any sense.
It shouldn't even be possible.
She cocked her head. "It's not power that matters in this game of gods and legacies… it's frame of reference."
And Galisk realized something chilling.
He hadn't just been outmaneuvered.
He'd been re-contextualized.
Galisk lay on one knee, his divine aura flickering and sputtering like a dying flame. The air around them warped, unsteady, as if the laws themselves were uncertain whom they should obey.
Footsteps echoed—measured, unhurried.
