The universe convulsed as if caught in the throes of a cosmic rebirth. In the heart of the storm, the Harbingers clung to their battered vessel—a relic adrift in a realm where space, time, and destiny were warping into chaotic fragments.
Finn's eyes burned with a new, resolute light. "We've broken free of the cycle—but at what cost?" he shouted, voice echoing in a corridor where reality itself now trembled. Anya gripped his arm as the ship's instruments flickered with unfamiliar symbols, each glyph a silent testament to powers older than the cosmos.
Outside the viewport, the shattered nebula twisted into a colossal vortex—a swirling nexus that pulsed with the lifeblood of ancient creation. Liam's dual nature still throbbed beneath his skin; the mark on his arm now pulsed in tandem with the chaotic rhythm of the vortex. But something else emerged from the maelstrom—a presence that transcended even the Architects.
