The amber gold radiance that had been flickering like a dying candle since the throne's destruction suddenly exploded. It wasn't just light; it was a supernova of temporal energy that roared back to life with a brightness that exceeded anything Rex had registered throughout the entire engagement.
The temporal notation—the raw script of reality—began to bleed through the air, the walls, and the shattered floor at such a terrifying density that the domain appeared to be ablaze with something far more lethal than fire. It was a conflagration of pure causality.
Kaeleth's form began to change. He didn't grow in physical height or mass, but his presence underwent a grotesque expansion.
He began to occupy more of the ambient register, his very existence stretching to fill every crack and crevice of Aethelgard. He had stopped pretending.
The mask of the administrator was gone; the predator had filled the cage.
"You think you understand the mathematics," Kaeleth's voice boomed.
