The sky shattered like glass.
The burly Celestial launched forward, his body wrapped in glowing astral sigils that pulsed with the weight of cosmic judgment. Every step he took across the ruined coliseum cracked reality itself—space ruptured, colors bled into one another, and gravity distorted, warping the battlefield into a nightmare of chaotic pressure.
But Endless?
Endless danced through it.
The foreign essence that swirled around him responded like a living tide—tendrils of shifting nothingness that twisted and reshaped the world around him. It wasn't mana. It wasn't aura. It was something beyond comprehension—the raw fabric of unbeing, the echo of a forgotten truth, something older than creation.
As the Celestial descended, he brought with him a blade of folded space, woven from light so dense that it distorted everything in its path. With a mighty roar, he cleaved downward—aiming to unmake the being who had defied the order of existence.
