The void broke.
Lucian Prime stepped forward, and the battlefield bent around him. Gravity tilted, shards of broken stars twisting in orbit as if bowing. His aura tore through the void, violet-gold and endless, heavy enough to crush bone just by existing.
Lucian stood opposite, his chest heaving, cloak shredded, blood running down his arms in hot streams. His body screamed at him to stop, but his eyes locked on the monster in front of him. His own face—his own shape—yet something greater, sharper, merciless.
Prime's voice carried through the collapsing void, layered like echoes through time itself.
"You're weaker than I thought. Pathetic. Unfit."
Lucian spat blood, grinned faintly. "Guess I'll disappoint you."
Prime's eyes narrowed. Then he moved.
The void collapsed with his first step. He didn't Fold Step—he erased distance. One moment he stood still, the next his palm crashed into Lucian's chest like a star exploding.
