The moment the faceless statue was destroyed, a bolt of blue thunder ripped across the sky above the ancient city.
The thunder did not roar.
It sliced.
Like an invisible blade forged from lightning, it cleaved straight through the thick, suffocating dark clouds that had hung over the city.
The sky itself seemed to split open, and for the first time since the sacrifice started, light pierced the oppressive gloom.
Within seconds, the black clouds began to disperse.
They did not drift away gently.
They recoiled.
The ominous darkness that had blanketed the ancient city retreated violently, as if swallowed by an unseen void.
Shadows unraveled, tearing apart like rotting cloth under immense pressure.
The dreadful, echoing laughter that had haunted the streets vanished instantly, leaving behind a silence so profound it rang in the ears.
Inside the city, the transformation was immediate.
Phantoms froze mid-motion.
One by one, they faded.
