The world cracked.
Valerian's blade clashed against the tide of the Godless, each impact shaking the very laws that governed existence. Time pulsed in reverse. Gravity fractured. And yet he pressed forward, every step tearing through the collapsing threads of causality.
Behind him, his allies fought like legends.
Kael flung arcs of stellar flame that melted void-spawn with each sweep of his arm, his body ablaze in the light of burning stars. His eyes were wide, wild—not with fear, but liberation. For the first time, he fought without a destiny dictating the outcome.
Selene stood at the eye of a tornado of arcane circles, her chants reverberating in languages no longer spoken by any living race. Lightning forked around her, turning the sky into a trembling ocean of runes. Every strike she cast severed a thousand fates, cleansing timelines the Godless had corrupted.
