The throne of bones groaned beneath Darius's weight, not from fragility—but from the sheer pressure of his dominion. His crimson eyes flickered beneath the crown of blackened sigils, and the world he had forged—rewritten by his divine will—knelt in trembling obedience. Celestia, Nyx, and Kaela stood at his sides, their souls eternally bound to the corrupted rhythm of his heart.
But still… something pulsed beyond the veil.
A hum.
Not defiant. Not corrupted. Pure.
And that… terrified him.
A portal shimmered in the void skies above his throne, not summoned by his command but invited by another force. Not chaos, not the Void—but something older. Something unmarked. For the first time since ascending, Darius could not see its source, could not bend it, could not dominate it.
"Do you feel that?" Celestia whispered, her voice tight with instinctual dread. "It's like… a silence that remembers."
He rose.
