The sky above the northern cliff of Nocture was no longer a sky.
It had transformed into a sea of light and darkness biting at each other, tearing one another apart, like two oceans that had forgotten how to make peace. Ten archangels floated in a perfect circular formation. Their eight wings glowed with pure white light, forming a massive pillar that descended from the center of the formation like a heavenly spear. The light was so bright that the black mist around the cliff was sliced away, leaving behind the scent of ozone and bitter ash in the air.
In the middle of the circle, Thor's avatar stood tall. His gigantic body, fifty meters high, with golden armor creaking every time he breathed. The hammer Mjolnir in his right hand vibrated, filled with blue lightning that never truly faded. His eyes were two living orbs of thunder, and every exhale birthed a low rumble that made the rocks crack slowly.
