Ash's words didn't just echo through the Lower Dimension.
They rippled through the Middle and Higher Dimensions as well.
Every being across the three realms—some older than the concept of laws, older than the idea of concepts themselves, beings who stood outside any framework—felt something seize their souls.
No matter what they were doing, no matter where they stood, they froze. They were forced to listen to a voice too grand, too heavy for their existence to bear.
Only a few remained unaffected… and from among them, the flame drifted forward.
It moved slowly—without rush, without malice.
Only motion. Motion that felt older than time.
It passed the group first—brushing by Nia's low flames without disturbing them, gliding past Vaeloria's sword, past Sonna's lullaby aura, past every Originat standing behind Ash.
They felt it—felt the chill of something immeasurably vast—but it did not touch them.
Then it entered the Lower Dimension battlefield…
And everything began to end.
