The place was simple.
Too simple.
Stone.
Table.
Chair.
Nothing beyond what was necessary.
The man was restrained.
Hands locked.
Energy contained.
But he was still smiling.
— You're organized.
Lyra leaned against the wall.
— We try.
Riven stood further back.
Watching.
Draka sat on the table.
— I still think we should hit him more.
— You always think that.
— And it usually works.
Silence.
The door opened.
No force.
No impact.
The Monarch walked in.
— So…
He looked at the man.
— this is the problem?
— Part of it.
Lyra answered.
The man studied the Monarch.
— Interesting…
— you're smaller than I expected.
Draka let out a short laugh.
— He's not the problem.
— He's the solution.
Silence.
The Monarch pulled a chair.
Sat down.
— Let's start simple.
He rested his face on his hand.
— You talk.
— And I decide if you keep living.
The man smiled.
— You all think this is a choice.
— I don't think.
Silence.
— I know.
The air grew heavier.
Lyra watched.
Riven alert.
Draka… waiting for a reason.
— Who are you?
The Monarch asked.
— I already answered.
— Not properly.
— Because you're not asking the right question yet.
Silence.
— Then help us.
Lyra spoke.
— Ask the right one.
The man looked at her.
— Why now?
Silence.
The Monarch tilted his head slightly.
— Why?
— Because the world has endured the wrong version for too long.
— Because what you call order…
— is just a weaker version of what should exist.
Draka rolled her eyes.
— Here we go…
Riven didn't look away.
— Ancient gods.
The man smiled.
— Exactly.
— And you think you can bring them back?
Lyra asked.
— We don't think.
— We know.
Silence.
— Lilith was a mistake.
— A test.
— And it worked.
The air turned colder.
— That wasn't "working."
Draka said.
— That was almost dying.
— Exactly.
Silence.
— And Elion?
Lyra asked.
A brief pause.
The man smiled.
— He understands.
The Monarch slightly lifted his gaze.
— Understands what?
Silence.
— That this world…
He started—
And stopped.
Suddenly.
The air shifted.
But not like before.
This time—
it was worse.
Deeper.
As if something had been removed.
Draka went serious.
— …did you feel that?
Riven was already in position.
— Too late.
The wall—
simply disappeared.
It didn't break.
It didn't explode.
It just…
stopped existing.
And he was there.
Elion.
Standing.
Silent.
Level 2 transformation.
The space around him… failed.
As if reality itself refused to accept him.
No one spoke for a second.
Until the cultist smiled.
— You came.
Elion didn't answer.
He just walked.
Step.
Calm.
Direct.
Lyra stepped in front of him.
— Stop.
Silence.
He looked at her.
And for a second—
he looked the same.
But he wasn't.
— Move.
One word.
Low.
Empty.
Lyra didn't move.
— No.
Silence.
The ground beneath her feet… failed.
She stepped back half a step.
Instinct.
— Lyra.
The Monarch spoke.
Quiet.
— Not now.
Silence.
Elion walked past.
As if no one was there.
He grabbed the man by the collar.
— You're late.
the man said.
— I'm not.
Elion replied.
Silence.
— They still don't understand.
Elion glanced slightly to the side.
— I know.
Silence.
— And they won't.
Then—
the space around him distorted.
Stronger.
Wrong.
And for a moment—
something was there.
Not visible.
But felt.
The Void.
Ancient.
Silent.
Watching.
Riven froze.
— …that's not just him.
No one answered.
Because everyone felt it.
Elion slightly turned his head.
— You're too late.
And then—
he was gone.
Taking the man with him.
And leaving…
silence.
Heavy.
Real.
Lyra didn't speak.
But her eyes—
had changed.
— Now yeah…
Draka muttered low.
— this is bad.
The Monarch stood up slowly.
No rush.
But different.
— No.
Silence.
— Now it really begins.