The sky was no longer a battlefield; it was an altar of divine execution. As the lightning of the dying World Matrix surged into the Invictus's main cannon, the feedback loop created a localized supernova. The massive warship, which had looked like an unstoppable god moments ago, was now a wounded beast wreathed in violet fire.
Below, the rhythm of the exodus was a desperate, mechanical dance.
The third and fourth waves were already funneling into the portal. Every time the portal flared, thousands more vanished.
Ryan, now somewhat recovered on the other side, looked around at their new reality. The gravity was heavier, pressing down on his chest like a lead weight, and the air... it didn't just feel like air. It felt thick, vibrating with a needle-like prickling against his skin. This was the "Spiritual Energy" they had been warned about. For the civilians, it was agony; for the trained soldiers, it was like breathing liquid fire.
