The realm didn't breathe anymore.
Not after what Aurora did.
Thea, once a fixed point of prophecy, now lay broken and fading beneath cracked skies. Her fate severed. Her threads erased.
And through the silence that followed… came a smile.
Adam's smile.
He stood near the center of the chaos, golden-white energy bleeding from his form like gravity too heavy for reality to hold. His eyes locked onto the last unshaken figure above—the one who had yet to move.
Mael.
But Mael didn't flinch.
Instead, he raised a single finger.
Snap.
The air fractured like thin glass.
And from that fracture—
They came.
One by one, the divine replacements. Five of them. Each a masterpiece. Each a weapon. Born from divinity, upgraded by Mael's own twisted will. They landed like meteors around Adam—runes sparking, halos igniting, power shaking the heavens.
