It was a few minutes later that Shinto and Mesopotamia Pantheon had finally arrived at the border of the Hyperverse.
Nyx had noticed that they were even more beat up than the Hindu and Chinese, probably because they weren't as powerful.
Truthfully, the arrival of these four pantheons at the threshold of the Hyperverse was a sight that would be etched into the records of the history of existence forever.
The Ark from the Chinese Heavens, the radiating aura of the Hindu Trinity, the obsidian-dark sanctuary of the Mesopotamians, and the flickering, solar-etched vessels of the Shinto survivors all converged.
They were a patchwork of divinity—bleeding, exhausted, and carrying the "Hearts" of their dying realities like precious, fragile embers.
"Alright people, now that everyone's here, why don't we go ahead and meer our supreme leader?"
