The moment the [First Calamity] ended, the dark vortex above the world finally vanished.
The sky cleared.
What replaced the swirling void was a magnificent, cloudless blue.
For just a second, if someone looked up, they might have believed everything was fine.
That this was just a normal day.
That nothing had happened.
But that illusion didn't last long.
The truth was impossible to ignore.
Entire cities lay in ruins. Buildings flattened. Streets torn apart.
The scars of destruction stretched across every horizon.
The sky might have healed, but the world had not.
'From 95% to 98%… because of the monsters' [Calamity Buff],' Stark thought, standing still amidst the wreckage.
His expression remained calm, unreadable.
He didn't dwell on guilt more than necessary.
He had fought with everything he had, and his intentions had been good.
But the [God of Calamity] had interfered, twisting everything.
Even someone like him could only do so much.
