Suddenly, for the briefest of moments, the billions of stars shining around Ricky dimmed—each one as if bowing its head in silent mourning. The vast expanse of the cosmos seemed to hold its breath, and in that pin drop stillness, a sense of universal grief swept over Ricky's soul.
He watched the scene ahead, frozen in a dramatic silence. He didn't realize it, but his tiny mandibles were trembling—not from the cold void around him, but from raw, primal terror. It felt as though the abyssal force on the horizon wasn't coming to devour Axiom Dawn, but to consume him.
"Who is he…?"
The whispered words escaped Ricky's mandibles unconsciously.
As if summoned by the question, a figure clad in radiant golden armor floated forth from the planet's upper atmosphere, his presence like a second sunrise. Space itself seemed to recoil and part around him as his form emerged—each inch of his armor reflecting the star's light with divine brilliance.
