Chapter 61: Final Descent
The world cracked.
Valerian’s blade clashed against the tide of the Godless, each impact shaking the very laws that governed existence. Time pulsed in reverse. Gravity fractured. And yet he pressed forward, every step tearing through the collapsing threads of causality.
Behind him, his allies fought like legends.
Kael flung arcs of stellar flame that melted void-spawn with each sweep of his arm, his body ablaze in the light of burning stars. His eyes were wide, wild—not with fear, but liberation. For the first time, he fought without a destiny dictating the outcome.
Selene stood at the eye of a tornado of arcane circles, her chants reverberating in languages no longer spoken by any living race. Lightning forked around her, turning the sky into a trembling ocean of runes. Every strike she cast severed a thousand fates, cleansing timelines the Godless had corrupted.
Seraphina glowed with holy fire. Her wings had transformed into radiant crescents of golden energy, and each beat split the skies. Her sword carved sigils in the air—angelic code—turning her body into a beacon of divine judgment. No longer merely a saint; she was justice incarnate.
And Lira—
Lira danced with shadows like a ghost unbound. Her daggers flashed like crescent moons, phasing in and out of reality. She struck the weak points that no one else could see—because she alone felt the echo of every failed version of herself. She didn’t fight as a warrior. She fought as every girl she could’ve been and refused to die.
The battlefield was unrecognizable now.
They stood in a shattered realm—a place that wasn’t space or time, but something older. The roots of cycles. Ghostly remnants of past worlds floated like debris: broken moons, half-faded cities, shattered statues of gods long erased.
Valerian surged toward the throne where the Godless watched, unmoving. Around it, the world bled, each drop a reality erased.