The Celestial Court shimmered above a fractured sky—an inverted palace of law suspended in a realm where time had become suggestion, not rule. Each god sat upon a crystalline throne shaped from the primal axioms of the universe, yet even they trembled.
Because before them stood the one they had feared would come.
Darius.
He didn't bow.
He didn't speak.
He simply was—a nexus of chaotic narrative, void-touched sovereignty, and mortal fury wound into the shape of a man who had torn through gods, rewritten deaths, and stolen the Forge Throne from the divine hierarchy.
"You were summoned to answer," boomed High Judge Serathiel, "not to threaten."
"I am the answer," Darius replied, eyes aglow with deep script and dying stars. "You just don't like the question."
At his side stood Nyx, Kaela, and Celestia—silent shadows of loyalty, each crackling with veiled power.
Serathiel's jaw tightened. "Then we invoke the Divine Execution Protocol."
