The ceiling of the Core Chamber kept splitting apart, revealing a dark gap that led not toward the bell tower above but toward something far deeper than mere stone and timber. Through that gap I could see light that came from neither moon nor stars, cold and judging, like an eye newly opened after sleeping for centuries. Dust and shards of stone kept falling around us, some large enough to dent the floor, and I could feel the tremor crawl up from the soles of my feet to my spine every time a new slab collapsed.
Ophelia stepped inside, each footfall leaving a scorch mark on the stone floor, thin black lines still smoking like embers half-doused. "Surrender, Demon King. Even if you manage to kill me again, time has run out. The Choir will sing with or without your blessing."
