The world around Aloysius seemed to ripple as the veil between realms grew thin. His vision blurred, then sharpened revealing scenes long buried beneath layers of time. Ancient temples crumbled beneath storms of divine wrath. Gods and goddesses, once majestic and radiant, were twisted by pride and betrayal, their fall igniting the curse of radiation that now poisoned the earth.
Aloysius' breath caught. This was the truth the ancient entity had spoken of the real origin of the power he wielded, and the price it demanded.
His opponent staggered, sensing the shift in Aloysius' focus. But Aloysius didn't waver. Instead, he embraced the knowledge, letting the bitter truth forge his resolve.
The battle ceased for a heartbeat, and in that silence, Aloysius spoke not with anger, but with a quiet authority:"I will not let the past condemn us all. This power is a gift and a curse, but it does not have to be our downfall."
Around them, the battlefield stilled. The war paused on a knife's edge, balanced between destruction and redemption.
The veil was lifting. And with it, the path forward was revealed not just a fight for survival, but a chance to rewrite the fate of gods and men alike.