Once the army of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance had withdrawn far from the fused Worlds of the Root, the oppressive aura of bloodshed and madness began to fade. The energy of the void grew calmer. The suffocating pressure that had gnawed at their minds loosened, allowing the warriors to breathe, to steady their thoughts, and to finally feel the rising thrill of survival.
They had endured.
They had pushed the Root back.
For the first time in a long while, victory did not feel distant.
But that fragile sense of relief lasted only a moment.
The universe trembled.
The distortion spread outward like ripples across an invisible ocean, subtle at first, then rapidly intensifying. Space twisted. Laws bent. Reality itself seemed to shiver under an approaching presence.
Immediately, the most powerful figures of the Alliance turned toward Meylin.
The phenomenon felt eerily similar to the one that had accompanied her arrival.
