The storm that had begun with Darius ascending the Nexus Forge Throne now surged into an uncontrollable torrent of timelines, faiths, and cosmic warfare. The very sky above the Cradle of Dominion was torn, riddled with veins of golden data and crimson divine blood as gods clashed in real-time. This was no longer a battlefield. It was a rewriting chamber for existence itself.
And in its center, Darius stood.
The remnants of the Forsaken Gods lay scattered in heaps of ruined divinity around him, their forms stripped of myth, reduced to brittle lines of fading script. He hadn't just killed gods. He had consumed their legacies.
Celestia hovered behind him, robes soaked in divine ichor, her eyes two galaxies of mourning and love. Nyx crouched nearby, blades drawn from void sheaths, her shadow stretching wider than the battlefield. Kaela laughed quietly to herself as she walked barefoot through the burning sands of what had once been a sacred temple.
