The echo of the question lingered in the nothingness, a perfect replica of Zion’s own voice, yet stripped of all warmth. Zion did not turn his head. His awareness was currently diffused across the very fabric of the Zero Dimension, stretching like thin silk over the infinite expanse of grey ash and suffocating silence. He was the barrier that held the universe together, and he was the prisoner of his own sacrifice.He closed his internal eyes, letting go of the desperate, clawing need to be the hero, the leader, or the savior. Those titles felt like dusty garments he had long since outgrown. In this absolute emptiness, there was no weight of duty, no ticking clock of an approaching enemy, and no desperate scramble for survival. There was only the Simfoni Semesta.It began as a faint, rhythmic pulse—a vibration that resonated deep within the core of his being. It was not a sound heard with ears, but a feeling experienced by the soul. The music was complex,

The air in the sanctum was thick with the scent of ozone and scorched earth. The fiery chasm in the floor expanded, its edges jagged and glowing with a heat that defied the laws of the physical world. Zion watched as the light faded, replaced by an unsettling, rhythmic pulse. The rest of the Vessel team stood frozen, their weapons half-raised as they stared into the abyss. "Zion, look," Isabella whispered, her voice barely audible over the low, guttural grinding of the mechanism beneath the building. She pointed toward the heavy reinforced windows that overlooked the city. Zion moved quickly, his boots scraping against the uneven floor as he reached the glass. He expected to see the city he had fought for—the bustling, chaotic, and vibrant streets of Oakhaven. Instead, his heart dropped into his stomach. The city was unrecognizable. Massive, obsidian spires pierced the skyline, connected by shimmering