Before the entity could mount even the slightest resistance, it realized its body was no longer its own. The nanomachines—those microscopic, self-replicating constructs forged from the very cells of divine blood—had already completed their work. Known as Nanocytes, they spread like wildfire, infiltrating every nerve, every strand of muscle, every channel of psychic energy.
In the span of mere heartbeats, they had subdued the abomination entirely. Its titanic form was frozen in place, paralyzed from within, its flesh shackled, its psychic might smothered. Yet they allowed one cruel mercy: the ability to think. To remain fully conscious as its helplessness was laid bare.
