Echo stood at the heart of the shattered void, the remnants of the Prime Realm floating around him in ghostly fragments of reality.
His timeless golden energy surrounded Orion protectively, a gentle sanctuary amidst the utter ruin wrought by the mere shadows of the gathered Emperors.
Echo's expression was solemn, deeply burdened by the tragic destruction—a consequence of merely the shadows of beings whose true forms could not even enter this fragile space without annihilating it instantly.
Around him, reality itself was warped, space fractured and folded in impossible patterns, and stars blinked silently through distant rifts. In this eerie silence, tension simmered, dangerously close to erupting into cosmic violence.
The Death True Dragon Emperor's enormous presence loomed darkly above, eyes blazing like dying suns.
