The obsidian throne room erupted with controlled chaos as Adam opened the spatial rifts. Each portal shimmered with different energies—the dry heat of Egyptian deserts, the pristine mists of celestial mountains, the sulfurous winds from the edges of demonic territories. Reality bent and warped around the openings, barely containing the power flowing between realms.
The assembled forces moved with grim purpose. The Furies stepped through their portal like shadows given form, their serpentine hair writhing with anticipation. Behind them, Zane's dark armor clinked softly, Morwen's ice-blue aura creating frost patterns in the air, Gilgamesh's golden mail gleaming, and Gawain's blessed sword humming with divine resonance. They vanished into the demonic borderlands, carrying with them the promise of vengeance.
