The moment Eron disappeared, something inside Kael shifted. He did not shout; he did not move immediately. He stood in the center of the ruined battlefield and stared at the space where Eron had been, as if the world might correct itself if he waited long enough. It did not. The storm continued to rage above him. The remaining gods hovered at a distance, uncertain and silent. The figure that had taken Eron stood calmly in front of him, as if nothing significant had occurred. Kael exhaled slowly. The breath did not steady him, but it marked the end of restraint. “You took him,” Kael said. The figure did not react. “Extraction complete,” it repeated. Kael lowered his head slightly. For a brief moment, everything around him seemed distant, the battlefield faded in importance, and the storm became background noise; even the presence of the figure lost its weight. There was only one fact that mattered. Eron was gone. Kael’s fingers curled slowly into fists. “You made a mistake,” he

Kael did not wait for the moment the second presence began to descend and the first figure diverted its attention; he understood that hesitation would cost him everything. The battlefield still trembled under the weight of clashing forces, but Kael no longer treated it as a place to fight. He treated it as an obstacle; he focused on finding Eron. He closed his eyes briefly. The chaos around him did not disappear, but he forced it into the background. He reached past the noise, past the storm, and past the oppressive presence of the two figures. He reached for the connection. It still existed; it had not been severed; it had only been redirected. Kael felt it as a thin thread buried beneath layers of interference. It pulled faintly, but it remained steady. “That is enough,” he said quietly. He opened his eyes. The figure in front of him reacted immediately. “Anomaly recalibration required,” it said. Kael ignored it. He extended his hand. Dark energy gathered around it, but this

Kael reached Eron before the attack landed. The movement happened in a fraction of a second, yet it carried the weight of everything that had led them to this moment. Kael placed himself directly between Eron and the converging force, and the impact struck him with full intensity. The crash sent a violent wave through the air that spread across the battlefield. The ground beneath them collapsed further, and the storm above reacted with a thunderous roar that echoed across the fractured sky. Eron staggered backward, but he did not fall. His eyes remained fixed on Kael. Kael stood in front of him, unmoving. The energy from the figures pressed against him, but it did not break through. The dark force surrounding Kael absorbed the impact and held its ground, forming a barrier that neither of the figures had managed to penetrate. For a moment, the world held still. Then the force dissipated. The two figures stepped back in perfect synchronization. Their movements remained precise, m

Eron did not take another step. The force that pulled at him remained relentless, and it continued to press against every part of his being with a precision that felt designed to override resistance. The light above him expanded further across the sky, and the presence behind it deepened until the air itself felt too heavy to move through without effort. However, Eron stood still. His body trembled slightly under the strain, but he did not advance. Kael watched him carefully. He did not speak, because he understood that anything he said now could either anchor Eron or push him further toward the edge. The distance between them had grown fragile, and Kael recognised that this moment did not belong to him. It belonged entirely to Eron. The voices above did not hesitate. “Submission remains incomplete,” they said. The tone carried no frustration. It carried only certainty. The connection within Eron surged again, stronger than before, and it forced his shoulders to tighten as if

The battlefield no longer felt like the centre of the war; it had become the centre of judgement. The sky above remained split open, its vast fracture pouring down divine fire in relentless waves. Each beam struck with enough force to erase mountains, flatten cities, and burn life from the land. The punishment had gone beyond Eron. It was no longer personal. The gods had turned their anger outward, and Kael saw it first. As another wave of white fire descended, his gaze lifted beyond the battlefield itself. Through the broken horizon, he could feel the reach of the destruction spreading far past the ruined valley. The divine punishment was no longer focused on a single target. It was branching. Multiple pillars of light split away from the main storm, streaking across the sky toward distant lands, towns, and cities, and toward every place where people still lived beneath the broken heavens. Eron followed his gaze, and the meaning struck him instantly. “They are targeting everyone.”