The sky bled equations.
Above the ChronoSpine, deities of broken cause and effect clashed in silence. They had no temples, no worshippers. Just rules. And Damien had broken all of them.
Lyra emerged from the ash of her Black Loop death, not reborn—but rewritten.
Her eyes now mirrored the shard. Her voice echoed with Eidra's tones.
She didn't speak. She simply pointed.
And time itself obeyed.
The gods turned.
And began to kneel.