"...No way."
Max's eyes widened in pure disbelief as an ominous surge of spatial fluctuations rippled through the air—originating from the exact spot where Drevon had been erased moments ago.
The tremors weren't normal. They weren't just residual energy or aftershocks from a collapsing attack. No—this was something else. Something deliberate. Controlled. Intentional.
And before Max could react, before he could even gather his drained mana or utter a warning—it happened.
A sudden crack split open in the void. Not like a clean tear in space as Max had created earlier—but a jagged, chaotic wound in reality, as if the very world was being torn apart by something it couldn't contain.
And from within that spiraling darkness… a hand emerged. Pale, bloodied, trembling with raw power, fingers stretched wide as if clawing its way back into the living world.
Gasps echoed across the battlefield.
"What—" someone whispered.
