The air over the battlefield shimmered beneath the high sun, and the rhythmic thunder of boots echoed as the soldiers of Grand Duchess Amanda marched forward.
They bore their banner high—golden lilies on a deep violet field—and chanted in unison.
"For the glory of the Duchess!"
But glory never came.
Without warning, the sky split open with a searing white light. A deafening silence engulfed the field before a wave of divine force swept through the advancing troops.
Screams were swallowed before they could form, armor melted like wax, and bodies disintegrated where they stood.
Within seconds, the vanguard was obliterated—no blood, no fire, just vanishing forms swallowed by that merciless radiance.
And then, quiet.
The light faded, revealing the impossible.
Where moments ago lay churned dirt and corpses, now spread green grass, vibrant and untouched.
