The air around the Primordial Forge had ceased to be oxygen; it was now a volatile mixture of raw causality and starlight. General Kratos, the last of the War Gods, stood trembling, his golden spear cracked and his "Iron Will" leaking from his armor like molten lead. He looked at Yun Caos and didn't see a boy or a monster—he saw the inevitable end of the Empire's ten-thousand-year reign.
"You... you cannot do this," Kratos wheezed, his voice stripped of its divine authority. "The Mandate is eternal. The Emperor is the sun that never sets!"
"Even the sun must yield to the night," Yun replied.
He didn't rush. He walked. With every step, the Void Reaver sang a discordant melody that harmonized with the beating heart of the Forge behind him. Kratos roared in a final, desperate act of defiance, thrusting his spear with the combined power of his remaining life force. The golden light was blinding, a pillar of fire meant to vaporize entire mountain ranges.
Yun simply swung the Void Reaver in a lazy, upward crescent. The silver-and-violet edge didn't just cut the golden light; it unwove it. The attack vanished as if it had never been launched. Before Kratos could blink, Yun appeared in his guard. He placed a translucent hand on the General's chest plate.
"I don't hate you, Kratos," Yun whispered, his eyes a swirling nebula of violet. "But you are a law that no longer applies."
With a soft thrum, Yun triggered the full devouring capacity of his marrow. The golden armor, the divine flesh, and the iron will of the General were sucked into Yun's palm in a matter of seconds. Kratos didn't even have time to scream. He collapsed into a pile of grey ash, his golden spear clattering to the ground before it, too, turned to dust.
The silence that followed was absolute. Shara and Meilin stood behind Yun, their weapons lowered, their bodies glowing with the residual energy of the battle. They looked at the archway, where the female silhouette was now stepping forward, emerging from the blinding violet radiance.
She was ethereal, her hair flowing like liquid mercury and her dress woven from the very fabric of the night sky. Her eyes were not violet, but a deep, infinite black, flecked with silver—the "Memória do Vazio" (Memory of the Void).
"Welcome home, My King," she said, her voice echoing in the minds of all three. She looked at Shara and Meilin, a knowing smile touching her lips. "And welcome to the anchors who kept him from drifting too far."
"Who are you?" Shara asked, her Thorn of Providence glowing in a defensive posture.
"I am Lyra," the woman replied, walking toward Yun with a grace that made the ground beneath her bloom with crystalline flowers. "I am the record of what the Heavens tried to erase. I am the memory of the Titan who was betrayed not by his enemies, but by the very gods he created to protect the world."
Yun looked at her, his bones resonating with a familiarity that was both beautiful and painful. "Tell me the truth, Lyra. Why was I sent back?"
Lyra placed a hand on the Void Reaver, and the blade purred under her touch. "The Heavens became a parasite, Yun. They created the 'Cultivation' system to harvest the souls of the living, recycling them to keep the gods immortal. The Titan saw this stagnation and tried to reset the cycle. They tore him apart and scattered his dust, thinking they had won."
She looked up at the sky, where the stars were beginning to bleed red. "But the Void cannot be destroyed. It can only be delayed. You were born from that dust to be the Grand Revisionist. You aren't here to kill the Emperor; you are here to delete the system of Heaven itself."
Meilin stepped forward, her white flames flickering. "If he deletes the Heavens, what happens to the world? To us?"
"The world will finally be free to grow on its own," Lyra said, her gaze turning to Yun. "But to do it, the King needs his full court. I have waited milennia to return the Titan's heart to him. But the heart is not a stone... it is a choice."
She gestured toward the center of the Forge, where a pedestal of shifting shadow awaited. "Step inside, Yun. Claim the throne of the Unmaking. But know this: once you sit, you will no longer be a man. You will be the Law."
Yun looked back at Shara and Meilin. He saw the love, the fear, and the unwavering loyalty in their eyes. He reached out, taking their hands one last time as a "mortal."
"I won't do it alone," Yun promised. "If I am to be the Law, then you will be my Mercy and my Wrath. We enter together."
As the three of them—and Lyra—stepped into the Primordial Forge, the Graveyard of Sovereigns vanished behind a curtain of violet light. The Volume 1 had reached its climax. The boy who was a curse had finally become the Sovereign of the End.