When a grand magus dies, their legacy rarely ends with the fading of their soul. Their bodies, though empty, can still hold fragments of their power—an aperture, the pocket of reality they carved with their will. Such domains might linger for years, slowly collapsing, sometimes even decades if untouched.
But in Kronos' case, there was nothing left. Both his body and his soul had been utterly annihilated. What remained was only the raw aperture itself, trembling on the brink of collapse.
For the past several days, Emery had been forcing his own spirit energy into it, like a man plugging cracks in a dam, sustaining it against collapse. He knew such preservation couldn't last forever. Today, with determination, he decided it was time.
