The entire sky was tuned to our channel.
Literally.
Our fight was being broadcasted live like a divine pay-per-view event — "Moral Mayhem: Episode 215, The Human King vs. Red Bitch: Dawn of Idiocy."
But there was one small problem.
There was no fight.
Just awkward silence, ash, and anticipation.
I'd already vaporized Malthus' castle into fine powder, killed his guards, melted their swords, and probably offended the entire architectural community.
And yet—
No Malthus.
No Stronges.
No Ghost Jack.
Only me, standing on rubble that used to be property, wondering if villains also ghost you emotionally.
Then it hit me.
The sky was literally a livestream.
If Malthus wasn't here, maybe the bastard was trending somewhere else.
So I looked up.
And there they were.
Three glowing dots in the heavens: Stronges. Malthus. And a faint little flickering one — Ghost Jack, hovering like a confused screen saver.
