The marrow battlefield convulsed.
Where once the chains had bound and looped, now their fragments howled as though alive—millions of splinters orbiting in spirals of white fire and abyssal black. Each shard hummed with broken verdicts, unresolved echoes, and silenced voices of every soul ever judged. The sound was unbearable, a thousand requiems sung at once, each note a tearing of the marrow itself.
Roselia clutched her ears, her stars sputtering. "This… this isn't judgment anymore—"
Milim snarled, violet wings snapping wide, her fire nearly snuffed by the density of nothingness bleeding from the Arbiter's helm. "No, it's annihilation!"
The Arbiter Below spread its arms. The shard in its helm pulsed once, twice, then cracked down its length. The battlefield dimmed as if the marrow flame itself had been strangled, leaving only the broken fragments swirling in requiem.
