The palace trembled as if the heavens themselves recoiled from the cataclysm unfolding within its walls. Cracks spiderwebbed across the once-pristine marble, and the air vibrated with the weight of clashing powers so immense they seemed to warp reality itself. Above the shattered spires of the Imperial Palace, the sky churned—a maelstrom of gold and crimson, light and shadow, as though the gods were waging war in the heavens.
Valerian moved like a phantom across the fractured marble, his silhouette wreathed in coiling shadows and crimson fire that pulsed with a life of their own. His black armor, scorched and dented, glinted faintly under the fractured moonlight, the weight of his Villain Sovereign aura pressing against the world like a storm waiting to break. Blood dripped from his gauntleted hand, staining the hilt of *Soulpiercer*, the blade humming with dark energy that hungered for more.
