"ZNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"
The sound was not merely loud—it was existential. Reality itself screamed as the Primordial Force of the Void tore through the ocean of blood, the shockwaves rippling like lightning across the stars.
Anark's figure, wreathed in violet radiance, hurled itself forward with the unstoppable momentum of a collapsing universe. Every fiber of his being—flesh, energy, soul, will—was pushed to their absolute limits, all of them converging into a single, brutal intention.
Advance. Break through. Do not stop.
The ocean of dark, rooting blood that High Lord Rykard had unleashed was vast enough to drown worlds. Its touch withered matter, corroded time, devoured essence.
Yet that ocean parted before Anark's charge, the way stone yields to a divine blade. It was a sight that left even the most battle-hardened warriors of the Nine Empyrean Suns Universe breathless.
Majestic. Terrifying. A declaration of supremacy that thundered through the void.
