The heavens declared war.
Not metaphorically.
Not symbolically.
The sky itself had become a battlefield.
Above the shattered imperial capital, the atmosphere screamed beneath the weight of descending higher-realm authority. Massive fractures spread across the heavens like broken glass, revealing glimpses of impossible dimensions hidden beyond mortal reality. Golden storms churned between those cracks, illuminating the dying world beneath with a cold, merciless radiance that carried neither compassion nor hesitation.
The Monarch Eradication Protocol still hovered above everything like an execution blade suspended over existence itself.
But for the first time since its activation…
It trembled.
The gigantic golden formation rotated unevenly now, its countless execution symbols flickering as though uncertain. Ancient calculations continued endlessly within the higher-realm construct, trying desperately to redefine the battlefield according to sovereign law.
