The clash between Shiva and Ifrit tore apart the very laws governing the Frozen Throne.
Two Aeons—ancient sovereigns of opposing absolutes—collided within the same domain, and reality strained under the contradiction. Infernal fire roared outward in violent waves as Ifrit unleashed its wrath, fists of molten flame hammering into the spectral body of the Ice Goddess. Each impact detonated into storms of steam and shattered frost, yet Shiva did not retreat. She did not need to.
This was her battleground.
The runes around the chamber glows intensely and the temperature plummeted beyond mortal comprehension. Ifrit's flames were compressed, crushed inward by absolute cold, its blazing form dimming as layers of divine frost crept across its burning limbs. Though born an Aeon equal in origin, it was an intruder here—its authority weakened, its existence rejected by the domain itself.
It would not endure much longer.
Eeshoo saw it immediately.
