As the power of the two colossal forces surged—Lilith's unleashed fury and the dragon's ancient presence—the very fabric of the realm began to unravel.
It started with a sound.
Not a roar. Not a scream.
A crack.
Subtle at first, like ice fracturing beneath pressure. Then another. And another. The sky itself split open, veins of light and shadow racing across the heavens like lightning trapped in glass. The ground trembled violently, not from impact—but from rejection. As if reality could no longer contain what was happening.
Lilith staggered, her breath shallow, her vision swimming. Around her, the battlefield—the war, the demons, the celestial warriors—froze in place. Suspended. Then, like a mirror struck by a hammer, the world shattered.
The realm broke apart.
Not in fire. Not in blood.
In silence.
Chunks of reality peeled away, floating upward like fragments of a broken dream. The sky collapsed inward, folding like paper, while the ground beneath her feet dissolved into dust. Time itself seemed to stutter—moments stretching, collapsing, repeating. The war vanished. The screams, the clash of blades, the thunder of wings—all gone.
Only Lilith remained.
Suspended in a void of falling stars and broken light.
Her body gave out. The power, the pressure, the sheer impossibility of it all overwhelmed her. She collapsed, her consciousness slipping into darkness.
When she awoke, it was not to the battlefield.
She was somewhere else.
Again.
A different dimension—dark, surreal, breathtaking in its twisted beauty. The sky shimmered with hues that didn't belong to any known spectrum, and the ground pulsed beneath her feet like a living heartbeat. It was magnificent. But wrong.
She knew this place.
The realization struck her like ice down her spine.
"No," she muttered, staggering to her feet. "Not again."
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but fury.
"Why the hell am I being thrown around like this? What is happening to me?"
She clenched her fists, her celestial blade humming faintly at her side.
"I'm sick of this shit."
Her breath came in short bursts, rage boiling beneath her skin. And then—her eyes widened.
This place… it was the same as the one from her dream.
The dream that wasn't a dream.
The one where she saw her true form.
The one where something spoke to her.
Her anger twisted into dread.
The shadows around Lilith thickened, curling inward like smoke drawn to flame. The air pulsed—slow, deliberate—like the heartbeat of something ancient awakening beneath her feet.
"Hufufu… finally, I meet you in flesh and bone, my princess."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. It wasn't loud, but it filled the space, pressing against her skin like a second layer of reality. It was velvet and venom, a whisper that slithered into her ears and coiled around her spine.
Lilith spun, eyes scanning the void. Nothing. No figure. No face.
Just darkness.
And presence.
Her grip tightened on her sword, though the weapon felt strangely distant now, as if the realm itself dulled its edge.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice sharp, but not steady. "Stop hiding."
A low chuckle echoed—soft, indulgent, like someone savoring her confusion.
"You've grown," the voice mused. "But you're still so… fragile."
Lilith's breath hitched. That tone—it was familiar. Not from memory, but from dreams. From the place where her thoughts weren't her own. Where something had reached into her soul and peeled back the layers.
"You," she whispered.
The shadows stirred.
Something was coming.
Not walking. Not flying.
Emerging.
The air bent around it, reality folding like silk as a shape began to form—not solid, not flesh, but essence. A silhouette of darkness, shifting and fluid, yet undeniably watching her.
Lilith took a step back.
She didn't know what it was.
But it knew her.