The sky was devoured. What once was crimson haze gave way to a dome of suffocating black, pierced by the single, vast Eye staring down from the heavens.
In the King's courtyard, chaos reigned. Nobles screamed as veins darkened around their eyes, their voices twisting into the Old Tongue—words that had not been heard since the age of the gods.
"𐌄𐌔𐌖𐌔… 𐌄𐌋𐌔𐌉𐌉𐌋𐌉𐌔…"
Some collapsed, clutching their skulls. Others rose with dreadful clarity, their lips bleeding scripture.
The Grand Priest's staff struck the ground. "The Eye anchors itself deeper! Those veins mark the chosen vessels—it is the covenant speaking through them!"
A noblewoman, her face marred by black veins, staggered forward. Her voice was not her own as she intoned, "The flesh is the altar… the Eye watches… the Eye judges."
The King did not flinch. His voice thundered over the courtyard.
"I will not bow. Not to gods. Not to shadows. Not to eyes."
Yet even as he spoke, the stone beneath their feet pulsed with a rhythm not of Earth. A tremor—beating like a heart.
The Grand Priest's face paled. His gaze shifted skyward, then downward, whispering:
"No… this time the Eye protects in another way…"
The courtyard fell into a hush as the Eye flickered, a silent acknowledgement.
And then—
The scene shattered, plunging into the depths of Hell.
The cavern roared as chains and illusions coiled outward, swallowing stone and flame alike. Igron's smirk glinted in the darkness, his shadows alive.
Across from him, Veyrith's crimson aura blazed, his sword thirsting for the clash.
"Igron!" Veyrith's voice shook the pit. "If you stand in my way, then fight me with everything you have!"
Igron's laugh was sharp and echoing. "Good. Then let us see if chaos or freedom carves the deeper scar!"
And their collision birthed the tremors that reached Earth.
The battle had begun.