Freyja's temple existed in a state that could not be described merely as physical; it was a continuous imposition, a structure sustained by divine will and reinforced by a sealing system so absolute that even the concept of "exit" seemed not to exist within. The columns that rose around it were not merely stone, but anchors of reality, each vibrating at a specific frequency that kept that prison functional, stable, eternal. The air was heavy, filtered, as if every particle were constantly being observed by something invisible, something that allowed no errors. It was a place that tolerated no intruders. A place that should not be violated.
And yet—
Vergil and Sapphire were there.
