The world stood still—neither alive nor dead, but hovering at the brink of unmaking.
Ashes of both gods and mortals drifted through the air, caught in the gravitational stillness of a reality that no longer obeyed rules. Time distorted. Meaning cracked. The game-world's sky fractured like a spiderweb of code bleeding into voidlight.
And in the center of it all, Darius knelt upon the bones of creation.
He was no longer man. No longer divine. The Null Throne, long thought a myth, pulsed beneath him—an invisible seat carved from the first contradiction ever written into the game engine: that which exists to undo existence.
His fingers clutched Celestia's final code relic—no longer glowing, just silent and cold.
