(The Fourth Dimension, Ru Vassa's POV)
The Fourth Dimension did not tolerate instability, and as Ru Vassa forced her way through its volatile geometry with an Origin Metal wound burning at the base of her neck, the higher strata twisted violently around her faltering form as though the dimension itself sensed weakness and moved to exploit it.
Her vision fractured into overlapping layers of distorted reality, colors stretching into impossible spectrums while spatial currents dragged at her limbs in uneven pulses, threatening to pull her off course as the wound throbbed with a malevolent persistence that refused to be ignored.
This was not ordinary pain, nor the blunt trauma of divine combat that could be shrugged off with sufficient authority, but rather a corrosive agony that resisted time itself, because Origin Metal did not merely cut flesh, it rejected divine regeneration at its core and interfered with a God's natural dominion over their own body.
*Throb*
*Sputter*
