The empty space fell into stunned silence, disbelief crackling in the air.
But this was not the atmosphere to be carried by leaders of a great cause.
The atmosphere was too depressing. Crusher coughed as he stepped forward.
His response came as a roar. He surged forward, muscles swelling with power, his hammer vibrating with barely restrained fury. "Whatever that flying chicken dares to bring, we are ready for it!"
Kanada only shook her head. Her voice was cold certainty. "No. None of you are ready for what is to come."
Her words hung like a blade.
Then—another voice split the void. Smooth, defiant.
"What if we also joined in?"
A portal of fire blossomed open, a spiraling gate of molten light. From it stepped a woman in a gown that rippled like liquid flame. Her eyes, though blind, burned yellow as if each orb was a living sun. Behind her spilled a host of chaotic entities, their forms ever-shifting, bristling with raw destructive energy.
