The once-clear heavens had twisted into a churning vortex of black clouds. The light was gone, devoured by an overwhelming force that was not his own. Lightning cracked across the horizon, not in gold or white—but in deep crimson, like the blood of creation itself.
This wasn't his magic.
This wasn't anything of this world.
Nathan's face hardened.
He was too late.
Despite his efforts, despite the destruction of the pillar—
A god had answered.
A god had come.
Nathan narrowed his crimson eyes, their icy glint reflecting the churning heavens above. A heavy silence swept through the air as the once-dark sky began to twist and tear apart, like fabric being clawed open by unseen hands. Swirling clouds spiraled in ominous patterns, pulled inward toward the growing fissure in the heavens. The atmosphere grew suffocating, pressing against his lungs with an invisible weight.
Something was coming.
And it wasn't good.
