BOOOM!!!
The sound was not heard with ears—it was felt in the marrow, a detonation that rolled through every layer of the Lower Dimension.
Across the multiverse, the sky wept.
First it was blood.
In Universe 37, crimson droplets began to fall from cloudless skies, pattering against marble streets and rose-gold plains.
In Universe 19, the Narakava Asuras looked up from as red rain hissed against hot steel, turning to steam that carried the scent of iron and iron-willed death.
In Universe 10 and beyond, the oldest, most heavily guarded realms—where ancient beings slept or plotted—felt the first warm drops touch their timeless walls. All at once, the multiverse began to bleed.
Then the color changed.
The red darkened—deepened—thickened—until it was no longer blood, but black blood.
Obsidian tears.
Ink made of night.
