The sky above Lancaster had become a canvas of chaos. Fractured reality bled through tears in the fabric of existence, casting an otherworldly glow across the devastated cityscape. Buildings stood like broken teeth against the horizon, their windows shattered, their structures compromised by the battle that had raged for what felt like eternity.
In the center of it all, three figures hovered in a triangle formation: the Emperor in his silver and black armor, Azraq with his four arms maintaining complex magical formations, and the bronze-armored warrior who had appeared so unexpectedly. Between them, the emissary of chaos writhed, her purple skin crackling with unnatural energy as she fought against the constraints of their combined power.
Ryan watched from below, his body aching from the countless battles he had fought since the portals first opened. Beside him, Nyx and Aether stood in tense silence, their eyes fixed on the confrontation above.
