Everything slammed down on them.
The weight was invisible but relentless, like the very gravity of the world had decided they were no longer necessary. Their knees buckled instantly. The man hit the rooftop with a grunt, his face scraping against the concrete. The woman collapsed beside him, choking on air that now felt thick and burning in her lungs. Their veins bulged under their skin, black and blue and red all fighting for space as their bodies trembled beneath the crushing energy.
Their eyes bulged, wide, panicked. They were agents of the Dark Pantheon. They did not kneel. They did not break. But Daegon wasn't something they were trained to resist. He wasn't just corrupted power. He was divine memory weaponized by wrath.
The man gasped, blood edging his lips. "You… y-you're making a mistake... going against the Pantheon... this isn't wise—"
Daegon crouched down, eye to eye now, smiling like a god who just found a mortal pretending to be brave.
