The moment the White Death's hand touched the nebula, reality itself seemed to flinch. His atoms trembled at such a violent frequency that everyone could see his cells shaking—each particle of his body oscillating between matter and nothingness.
Then, without warning, a pillar of white flame erupted from his figure, expanding upward and downward across the void. It grew and grew until even the farthest Legends could no longer perceive where it began or ended. The brilliance devoured distance.
The pillar blazed like the spine of creation, radiating such purity and heat that time and space around it began to distort. The Law of Entropy, the essence of decay and renewal, manifested in its truest form—so perfect, so absolute, that the universe itself struggled to sustain its presence.
Around him, the void screamed. Dimensions twisted like molten glass, while the flames roared without sound.
