The Milk River had burst its banks, no longer a stream of divine nectar but a roaring flood that swallowed forests, villages, and temples. From horizon to horizon, the world of Vireya was drowned in milk—thick, steaming, alive with the warmth of Kaito's claim. What had once been a sacred flow now surged as a living ocean, a sea of desire that pulled everything into its sticky embrace.
The land moaned. The earth itself seemed to sigh beneath the crushing tide as roots sucked milk instead of water, blossoms opening wide with wet petals dripping white. Every tree that once stood proud now swayed, twisted, its bark softening into skin-like flesh. The flood was not only drowning the empire—it was transforming it. Vireya itself became a womb.
