Rivers of blood flowed unseen across the converged realm, rising into towering clouds of ash that painted the sky a bright scarlet. The convergence itself seemed to weep, reality bleeding as the very foundations of existence groaned under the weight of divine warfare.
Adam strode through the half-collapsed streets, the Raiment of the God-Slayer moving with him like a second skin. Each step sent subtle vibrations through the enchanted metal, the armor's power humming in harmony with his own essence. He felt ready—more than ready—to face whatever Marduk and his pantheon could throw at him.
But the sight that greeted him at the palace gates stopped him cold.
