hustle hustle
Just as one would expect from the elite generals and battle-hardened soldiers of the Golden Army, they had done what no ordinary force could—they brought everyone back. Whether it was through coercion or voluntary return, whether wounded or unharmed, still shaken or beginning to feel relief at the crisis's end, each and every person was seated once again. It was as though the chaos had never happened.
No screams. No arguments. Just a silent return to order, eerily smooth. As if the very foundation of discipline had reasserted itself with steel-like grip.
And truly, if there was any silver lining in the disaster that unfolded today, it would be this: the overwhelming pressure unleashed by the cataclysmic attack from the Major Law of Destruction had not been uniform. No—it had been relative.
The stronger one was, the more attuned they were to the fabric of heavenly laws, the greater the toll exacted upon them.
