The silence after victory was heavier than war.
Darius stood atop the ruins of the Prime Coder's throne, his body cloaked in shadows that no longer belonged to this world. Behind him, the broken lattice of heaven bled light, each thread snapping one by one as if reality itself was bowing before him.
Celestia, Nyx, Kaela, and those who had followed him through blood and fire stood below, their faces painted with reverence and sorrow. They knew what he had already accepted—this was not triumph, but transcendence.
> "It's over," Celestia whispered, her voice trembling. "But… at what cost?"
Darius looked down at his hands. They flickered between flesh and something older—glyphs of void, rivers of unmaking, the forbidden power he had bound to his soul. No man could hold this forever. Not even a god.
