The Vault Collapses
The air cracked.
Time twisted.
As Luka lunged forward, blades gleaming with burning memory, the world itself tried to stop him.
The First God didn't lift a weapon—he became one.
His arm stretched and split into a lattice of silver fire, trailing symbols that hadn't existed since the First Breath. Each rune burned with the power to erase thought itself.
But Luka did not flinch.
He dove through the storm of vanishing light—slashed once—and carved a wound across divinity.
The god reeled back.
Not in pain.
But in surprise.
"You remember too clearly, Flamebearer."
"They let you burn."
Reality Unhinges
The Vault began to fracture.
Walls bled light. Floor turned to sea. Ceiling became skyless.
Serene pulled Auri back, erecting a holy ward that flickered like a candle in a hurricane.
Snow screamed, "Luka, this place isn't made to hold you both!"
Gregor tried to reach them—but the path collapsed into a floating spiral of stairs, forever folding inward.
