The sky was no longer sky.
It was a scar.
Where Threnis, the God of Broken Endings, fell, reality itself splintered like glass struck by divine grief. The mind-duel between him and Darius had lasted no longer than a single heartbeat—but within that heartbeat, a thousand multiverses burned, rebooted, and collapsed.
Darius stood in a world not yet named, where time buckled, and matter wept code. He bled not from flesh but from memory—each drop a truth unspoken, each wound a moment stolen from what might've been.
Across from him, Threnis hovered in the air, suspended by a web of broken script. His form flickered between beautiful ruin and monstrous infinity. His voice, when it returned, was more lament than defiance.
> "You would defy the Old Laws, mortal-born? You would kill a god as if consequence were a shadow to ignore?"
