The sound was quiet.
It was almost impossibly quiet—a single, sharp metallic snap that carried no initial explosive force and no accompanying shockwave. It was nothing more than the cold, mechanical failure of a single link.
Yet the exact millisecond it occurred, the entire physical and conceptual framework of the battlefield froze in place.
One chain had broken. Just one out of the millions binding the celestial structure. And reality reacted to that minor structural failure as if a star had detonated in the center of the plaza.
The deep prison trembled, sending a low-frequency hum vibrating through the bedrock. The foundational geometry groaned under a sudden redistribution of weight, and the jagged, black fracture spanning the sky expanded by several meters, spilling fresh, toxic clouds of void mist into the atmosphere.
