The sky tore open above the cathedral square. No slow build-up, no distant rumble. One second the air was thick with smoke and the stench of burning wood.
The next, a colossal mass of fractured light and writhing void dropped straight through the clouds like a dying star. It had no fixed shape.
Parts of it looked like golden cathedral arches, others like pulsing veins of black fire. The thing kept trying to force itself into Aiden's body, pulling at the hybrid power he had just awakened.
Aiden stood on the cracked steps, blood on his face, hands clenched. He didn't hesitate. He pushed the two forces together inside himself—cold imperial control and raw Luciferian chaos.
The moment they fused, power flooded his veins. It felt like ice water mixed with molten steel. Sharp. Clear. Terrifyingly strong.
He raised one hand.
A wave of Morten's elite troops charged across the square, silver armor flashing, holy spears raised.
