The final strike did not descend with a roar, but with the absolute, crushing silence of a ledger closing. The dark violet arc of the Void-Reaper tore through the remaining pockets of diamond static, cutting the very concept of visibility out of the air. The God of Light, now reduced to a frantic, bleeding vertical sliver of white intelligence, tried to retreat into the geometric lines of his shattered altar. But there was nothing left to save him. The floor was leaden ash, and the sky was a bottomless well of Abyssal twilight.
[Synchronization: 79.0%]
[Level: 128]
[Final Audit Initialized]
[Host: The Executioner of Night is furious!]
