The Primordial Deep had become a place where even the concept of distance was struggling to survive.
The golden-silver nucleus revolved silently at the heart of the catastrophe, its surface flickering between the frigid radiance of Yin Ice, the scorching brilliance of Yang Flame, and the destructive fluctuations of Magic-Nuclear energy.
Every rotation caused the surrounding darkness to collapse inward, only for new fractures to spread across the already distorted space.
Now, neither the Void Authority nor the chaotic spatial currents could suppress it completely, and that was precisely what made it dangerous.
Immortal Nimrod stood at the center of the catastrophe, his avatar gradually losing its once-overwhelming presence as cracks spread across his body, and the emptiness that had previously surrounded him like an inviolable domain began to fluctuate uncontrollably.
Yet his gaze remained fixed on Destin Saint.
"You've prepared this from the beginning. But you've failed!"
