The air shattered.
Not merely trembled, it broke apart, like fragile glass struck by a soundwave without form.
Above the ruined valley, the sky split open, exposing cracks of white light colliding with black mist.
The clash between divine power and death's essence echoed across every corner of existence.
There were no spectators. No witnesses.
Only the land, the fire, and the air themselves, twisting in terror.
Yet amidst the cataclysm, the true battle lasted less than ten minutes.
Ten minutes….
A blink to mortals,
But for beings of godlike power, it was enough to rewrite or erase history.
Persephone stood at the epicenter of devastation, her black gown drifting softly though the air around her was dead.
Silver-gray and violet light swirled along her form, as if the world itself tried to reject her existence but could not.
