...The sky and the sea split cleanly in two, as if sliced by a divine blade of light.
A thin, radiant thread shimmered across the world, drawing a perfect incision—so precise, so sharp—that it resembled a code of judgment, a commandment etched in light.
The planet itself obeyed, cleaving into two symmetrical halves.
And there stood Robin...
Right in between.
Exactly at the intersection of devastation and serenity.
As if he, too, had been cleaved by the blade. Yet no pain came—his body untouched, his soul intact—but his mind... was elsewhere. Drowned in what his eyes beheld, reality itself suspended in awe.
Tremor... Tremor...
The right half of the world began to mutate.
Clouds vanished in an instant, as if swept away by an invisible hand.
The sky turned to a deep, infernal crimson—like dried blood under a scorching sun.
The air changed—thicker, hotter, malicious.
Every breath carried pain, like inhaling fire.
Below, the sea stirred.
Not with waves... but with rage.
