"This planet is naught but an entropic, frozen wasteland," Sathiel muttered, her voice as sharp as the flail slung at her side. Each word bit through the glacial winds like obsidian splinters, as unforgiving as the landscape they trudged across. "I doubt even the gods could endure such inhospitable conditions—civilisation here would be naught but a myth."

  Beside her, a towering wyrm of starlit shadow and void flame reared up. Theoktonos, in his Cosmic Dragon Form: Níeh?ggr, contrasted violently with the pallid snowscape. He released a low, rumbling growl, the resonance shaking frost from the sky.

  "The only thing that should be here," he intoned, "is the Deicide I mentioned."

  Trailing behind, or perhaps ahead depending on one's perception, was Lumi'Nae. Cloaked in a veil woven of voidstuff and unspoken truths, she moved with an effortless grace, the blizzard parting before her like an obedient tide. Her gait was swift, uncaring of the ice and cold—as if this realm dared not lay a finger upon her.

  They arrived at the lip of an infinite chasm, where the world abruptly ceased and darkness reigned supreme. The abyss yawned below like the maw of a slumbering deity.

  Lumi'Nae stepped to the brink without hesitation. Her void-cloak undulated like black mist, reaching into the emptiness. She stared downward, unblinking, as though reading scripture etched into the darkness itself.

  Sathiel stopped short, armour clinking with suppressed tension. Her gaze wavered between her companions and the cliff. The wind howled past her like laughter.

  "Lady Lumi'Nae," she said at last, voice thin against the storm, "surely... you don't mean for us to go down there? I—I'm afraid of heights."

  Lumi'Nae turned, her hair whipping about her in threads of moonlight and shadow. "Down there lies truth," she murmured. "And the one we must meet. The Deicide."

  She tilted her head toward Theoktonos. "Remind me—why are we doing this again?"

  The dragon let out something between a snort and a sigh. "Because the Unknowable Diva is... well, unknowable. To reach Her, Lady Finality, you must first gather your Deicides. Only then may you hope to comprehend a fraction of Her being."

  "But... why?" Lumi'Nae asked, almost pouting. "You told me I'm a direct fragment of Her. That should be enough. I'm quite happy with my current OP protagonist status."

  "Think of it as... a macguffin," Theoktonos replied, shrugging with the gravity of a black hole. "You can already one-shot everything. I'm just here to make your journey interesting."

  "Hmph." Lumi'Nae crossed her arms. "I always forget you're aware we're in a story too."

  Sathiel blinked. "You're doing it again. That weird... fourth wall talk. It makes me feel like a side character with no dialogue options." She huffed, shaking her head. "Never mind that!"

  She looked down into the abyss again. Her flail rattled as she tightened her grip. "It's so deep... I don't know if I can..."

  A deep, reassuring growl echoed from Theoktonos. "The Abyss rejects wings and magic alike. But fear not—we will descend together."

  Lumi'Nae, unbothered, caught a snowflake on her tongue. "Maybe it's time to awaken your other persona. The Demon Monarch of Wrath. You've been to Hell and Gehenna before, right? The Abyss can't be much worse. Think of it as a baby Void."

  "T-to you, maybe!" Sathiel snapped, her composure fraying. "The Abyss is home to Fell Gods and Qliphoth swarms! Even Hell's afraid of what's down there! I mean, with you two, sure—we might survive—but as a former Goddess of Light, everything in me is screaming right now!"

  With one last trembling breath, she nodded.

  Then, together, they stepped off the edge.

  The descent was endless. The world above disappeared in seconds, and the cold, windless dark devoured all sense of time. Sathiel's heart pounded as they plunged—faster, deeper, further—into nothingness.

  Just as eternity threatened to imprison them, Lumi'Nae moved.

  Her wings ignited, not with fire but with absence. Time rippled. Thought bent. She whispered to the void—and it obeyed.

  Finality itself answered her call.

  The abyss inverted, then parted like a curtain, revealing a place beyond the veil of all known worlds.

  They landed.

  Upon a silver-glass ocean that shimmered with iridescent hues, they stood. Above them, an inverted sky reflected their forms in a surreal mirror-world. The surface beneath their feet rippled with quiet malice and ethereal beauty.

  "...We've breached the Abyss Realm," Theoktonos said, scanning the horizon with eyes older than time. "And not just any region. This is one of its deepest layers—one you sealed off, Mistress."

  Lumi'Nae nodded solemnly, black ichor dripping from her right stump and dispersing into the waters like a blessing—or a curse. "The realm closest to the Void... the first cut of Creation's shadow."

  Sathiel knelt beside a ruin half-submerged in the strange sea. Her touch crumbled it into dust, the remnants falling into a bottomless blue.

  "So," she asked, voice quiet, "how dangerous is this Deicide we're about to meet?"

  Lumi'Nae tilted her head skyward. "Don't you find it relaxing here?"

  Her gaze caught the mirrored sky: white hair, white scales, and Sathiel's pale blue locks catching the abyssal light. She smirked slightly, running a hand through her own strands.

  "Dangerous?" she echoed. "About as dangerous as you are cute."

  "W-what!?" Sathiel sputtered, a flush of crimson rushing to her cheeks. "P-please be serious for once! I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm the only one anchored to reality while you two are frolicking around in lala land!"

  Lumi'Nae turned her head with an almost mechanical slowness. Her lifeless gaze settled on Sathiel like a haunted painting following its viewer. A single trail of blood leaked from beneath one vacant eye. Her already pale skin grew almost translucent, and her immaculate hair twisted into shadow-matted tangles. The air shifted—becoming wrong.

  And then, she spoke.

  Her voice was not her own. It rang out in a chorus of ancient frequencies that had never known kindness.

  "...Sath...iel. I. Am. Serious. My. Cute. Guardian—"

  "AaaaaaaaAAHHHHHH!!" Sathiel screamed, her embarrassment imploding into action. Without hesitation, she rocketed forward and decked Lumi'Nae across the face with her demonic spiked gauntlet.

  A satisfying crack echoed across the abyssal waters.

  Lumi'Nae flew backwards in a ragdoll tumble, landing on the shimmering ocean like a broken doll. She floated there, limbs splayed, eyes vacant, a blooming smear of blood spreading from her temple.

  "Theoktonos," she mumbled flatly, staring at the inverted sky. "Oh. Wait. There should be more blood." Blood erupted across her cheek as if on cue. "Why did my beloved guardian punch me? This is... this is... a top ten anime betrayal. I think... I'm going to cry."

  She slammed her palm against the Abyss Sea.

  The world shuddered.

  An impossibly vast geyser of abyssal water exploded upward, and from within it, a shape emerged—titanic, terrible, and awe-inspiring. Seven writhing heads tore skyward, screaming into the void.

  Tiamat had awakened.

  The waves bowed to her presence. The air distorted from her emergence. Her monstrous form eclipsed the heavens—an apocalypse made flesh.

  "Deicide Tiamat," Theoktonos said solemnly, the very name laden with history. "Even now, I cannot detect any Nihilpotence from her. She conceals it well—better than I ever could. Like all true Deicides, she transcends not only power but definition. Mistress, only your Agnopotence could destroy her in one strike."

  Tiamat coiled her serpentine mass across the ocean's surface, seven heads moving independently with a sickening grace. One of them turned toward Lumi'Nae. Another regarded Theoktonos. A third fixated on Sathiel with amused disdain.

  "I know you," she rumbled, her voice like a cyclone through bone. "Finality... and the Elder God of Famine. Have you truly come to this forsaken layer of the Abyss... to beg for assimilation?"

  Lumi'Nae blinked slowly, then tilted her head.

  "We seek not assimilation," she said evenly. "We seek... what's the phrase they use in shounen manga again? Ah, yes. Let's be friends, Tiamat-chan."

  Tiamat froze. Then she threw back all seven heads and howled with laughter.

  "I see," she said between echoes. "You've become a fool. In the past, I felt something—a pressure, a presence—that told me not to fight you. But now? Nothing. This... this is a glorious opportunity. If I devour you now, I will surpass even Finality. I will become the Unknowable's true heir."

  One of her heads turned to Sathiel with a sneer.

  "And what's this? A flea? No—Satan, the Supreme Adversary? She's barely a snack. An adversary fit only for a single droplet of the Unknowable's sea. And you, Famine?" she added, eyeing Theoktonos. "You were always a pretender. I should have been the leader of the Deicides."

  "In your dreams, Abyss-spawn," Theoktonos growled. "The Mistress of Ruin will humble you again—just as she did before."

  The air thickened, the weight of ancient rivalries pressing down like gravity. The two dragons glared, their Nihilpotence clashing like duelling worlds.

  Until Sathiel stepped forward.

  "I am the former Goddess of Light," she declared, voice firm with pride. "Guardian of Lady Lumi'Nae. And I—"

  A hand—delicate, cold, and annoyingly soft—gently stopped her.

  "No," Lumi'Nae murmured, "you're my cute Sathiel."

  Then, with a flick of her right stump—no arm, only a pulsing knot of unknowable matter—something changed.

  The abyss responded.

  Tiamat's scales shimmered. Strange markings, written in no mortal script, began to crawl across her indigo hide like spectral tattoos. An Aura of Terror surged forth, thick with forgotten truths.

  "Tiamat-chan," Lumi'Nae said, her eyes narrowing. "Why... do I feel my right arm inside you?"

  Tiamat's central head leaned down, sniffing the void-slick stump with a suspicious squint.

  "Hmm. Smells like Yog-Sothoth," she muttered. "I bit off her noodle-tentacles like they were chewy ramen aeons ago. Popped like popcorn. Tasted like... incomprehensible food. Too bad that clever squid-bitch got away before I could eat the rest."

  Another head cloaked itself in an Abyss Veil and struck a sibling head—not to kill, but to assert dominance. The crack of reality itself resonated from the impact.

  "I sense more of my... meal within you," Tiamat whispered. "Perhaps you'd care to join me—completely?"

  Theoktonos turned toward Lumi'Nae. "Mistress," he said with quiet reverence, "the Abyss was once your domain. But when she defied you, sought to claim your title, you shattered her ambitions with a single cosmic finger flick. Then, you sealed her here, in the echo of your former palace."

  "I see," she whispered. "So I was cool once."

  Sathiel facepalmed. "Please... PLEASE be serious just once..."

  "Well then, we should leave her be," Lumi'Nae continued, her tone calm, almost bored, as if she weren't standing atop the primordial ocean beneath a sky stitched shut by void-storms. "Or should I do that again? I must say... I have excellent taste in architecture."

  "Neither," Tiamat replied, her voice rippling through the abyss like a divine verdict. The air thickened. The ocean howled. Blood surged from beneath, staining the waters crimson. Rain—no, upward rain—poured like reversed weeping, as if the very world were rejecting its own suffering.

  The storm sealed around them—a dome of dark clouds and thundering void.

  Sathiel, who moments before had been teleported away by Theoktonos, now found herself back in the heart of Tiamat's dominion. Again. Like a nightmare looping endlessly.

  "This again?" she groaned.

  Lumi'Nae stepped forward, eyes half-lidded. "Hey. Why isn't she allowed to leave? I thought you said she wasn't worth eating?"

  Tiamat loomed larger, a black sun of fury rising from the sea. "Your idiocy hastens your demise," she hissed. "None defy the will of the Ruiner."

  But beneath her impassive expression, Lumi'Nae's Agnopotence shimmered. Even Tiamat could feel it: a subtle, metapresent threat. The quiet implication that, in truth, she could end this at any moment. And had simply chosen not to.

  Sathiel stepped beside her, her voice hardening. "This evil dragon seems interested only in fighting." Her crimson aura pulsed. "I'm not letting you two face her alone."

  "You?" Tiamat laughed. "You're nothing but a morsel. A garnish, not even worth a full swallow."

  The moment shattered.

  Tiamat lunged—seven heads in synchronised fury. A tidal shockwave tore the ocean as towers of red water erupted around her targets.

  Four heads struck toward Lumi'Nae. Each snap came closer than physics should have allowed—femtometres of separation—but she drifted effortlessly between them, not walking, not flying. Merely being in the wrong place for them.

  To her side, Theoktonos transformed.

  Gone was the cosmic dragon. In his place stood a towering, battle-forged warlord, long purple hair whipping behind him, his greatsword—Dark Excalibur—emerging from a rift of shrieking colour. The sword was nothing mortal. It was carved from the bones of broken dreams and oaths long shattered.

  He entered a stance: Doom Guard.

  Three of Tiamat's heads met the swing of Dark Excalibur, the clanging impact sending shockwaves across the water. His tan skin shimmered with threads of purple Nihilpotence beneath the moonless sky.

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  But one head got through.

  It shot towards Sathiel—impossibly fast.

  Sathiel's primordial power blazed. Her size swelled until she matched the oncoming dragon. A towering war maiden, her armour veined with demonic red light. She raised her titanic shield—The Tower of Gehenna—and caught the beast's jaws head-on.

  Tiamat bit down.

  CRUNCH.

  The shield buckled.

  But Sathiel didn't break.

  From within the dragon's mouth, her spiked flail—Gehenna's Grasp—whirled to life. With a war cry echoing with divine fury, she smashed the inside of Tiamat's maw. A sickening crack resounded. Blood—acidic, luminous, screaming—splattered her black armour.

  Tiamat recoiled, enraged.

  Her scales darkened, thickening with abyssal essence. All seven heads reared back.

  Then: The Black Breath of Ruination.

  Beams erupted—pure destruction incarnate.

  Four of them targeted Lumi'Nae.

  They hit.

  Or rather—they appeared to.

  The beams fizzled, dispersed. Lumi'Nae hadn't moved.

  "S-such power...," she droned in a flat, mocking monotone. "Ah. I'm overwhelmed."

  Tiamat screamed.

  Tentacles—slimy, writhing things of Outer horror—erupted from her gaping maws. Driven by Nihilpotence, they surged toward Lumi'Nae.

  Flick.

  Flick.

  Flick.

  Each tentacle was parried mid-air with a single void wing.

  With a beat of all her ten wings, she ascended. Then danced. Parrying each attack like a goddess playing hacky sack with the souls of lesser deities.

  On the ground, Theoktonos strained.

  Two of Tiamat's beams bore down on him, threatening to grind him into dust. He stood on one leg, sword raised high.

  "Mistress," he growled, "do I have permission to use the full extent of my Nihilpotence?"

  No answer.

  He glanced up.

  Was this what Atlas felt?

  Meanwhile, Sathiel, still at close quarters, activated her Bloodbound Barrier. A spell born of Tiamat's own essence—twisting the dragon's blood into a shield that fed on its maker. Every breath she tried to unleash only made the barrier stronger. And weakened her more.

  Theoktonos closed his eyes. Felt the rhythms of battle. Lumi'Nae's dance. Sathiel's living fortress. And yet, he knew—

  They could not win like this.

  Not quickly.

  Not cleanly.

  And so, he did not call on Nihilpotence. He chose something older.

  He whispered:

  Nightmare's Nemesis,

  Gazes upon twin divines,

  Hungry void watches.

  Ruby goddess weaves,

  Threads of fate in cosmic loom,

  Ouroboros coils.

  Turquoise serpent king,

  Swallows stars in endless dance,

  Eternal return.

  Lumi'Nae's mantle shimmered.

  Then came the twins.

  Two figures stepped into the storm. They did not appear—they were simply there, as though reality had always expected them.

  Their ivory skin glowed with celestial radiance.

  Akashirae walked with a predator's grace, her red chin-length hair burning like a holy flame. She wore a flowing white robe, nine tails flickering behind her like celestial ribbons.

  Her voice cut through the void: "Feeling the weight of destiny again, Theoktonos? Tempting fate for the millionth time?"

  She smirked, arms crossed. "Hmph. Still, I'm magnanimous enough to overlook your past mistakes. For now."

  Beside her, another presence spoke.

  Ouroboros.

  The turquoise serpent god wore a storm-black trenchcoat, his body scarred by aeons. Sapphire war paint gleamed across his stoic face. His long turquoise hair billowed as he stepped onto the battlefield, unconcerned by Tiamat's searing breath washing against Theoktonos' sword.

  He cracked his knuckles.

  "Still restraining yourself for the Mistress's sake?" he asked, voice like velvet thunder. "Honestly, that's not very Destroyer of you."

  He glanced up at Tiamat's seething mass.

  "Well. Let's see if seven heads can scream in unison."

  "Brother," Akashirae said, her voice gentle yet commanding, as she gestured toward the churning heavens, "set aside thoughts of Theoktonos and Tiamat." Her crimson eyes glinted. "Speak of the devil... Lady Finality appears."

  Above them, high in the storm-warped firmament, Lumi'Nae's unknowable form glided—untouched by gravity, thought, or consequence. A goddess beyond comprehension, a truth that refused to be named.

  Ouroboros's turquoise gaze followed her movements, muscles taut beneath his skin like coiled serpents. His anticipation was palpable. The air trembled.

  "Hubris," he muttered, disdain colouring every syllable. "Myriad gods exalt themselves, believing their divine mantles grant them dominion. Yet not one of them—neither the warlords of flame nor the primordials of void, not even the vaunted Aeternums—possesses the strength to stand before her."

  His lips curled into a smile—half menace, half prophecy.

  "Only I," he declared, "have the might to vanquish Her... should that day come. But for now—" he swept his trenchcoat from his shoulders and cast it skyward.

  The coat burst into light, twisting in the air, transforming into a radiant halberd—Nexus Piercer. Its surface shimmered with divinity, edged with the concept of endings.

  He stood revealed beneath: a red tank top clinging to his frame, a cerulean dragon tattoo coiling across his body like an ancient circuit of power. The swoosh of a defiant Nike logo gleamed beside it. Below, black leather trousers hinted at rebellion and final judgement both.

  "This indigo beast is mine," he said, his voice a low growl. "Let the hunt begin."

  "It's our quarry," Akashirae corrected coolly, her expression unreadable as she raised one elegant finger and wagged it once, precisely.

  She unfurled her crimson fan—Fukahi no Danzai, the Fan of Inevitable Sentence.

  With a single sweep of its fabric, her eyes flickered. She peered across the fabric of existence itself—through countless omniverses, countless variations of the same battle. In each, she unravelled every path, every blow, every breath leading to victory.

  She closed the fan.

  And with that action, that one motion, chose the reality in which Tiamat had already been defeated.

  Suddenly, without spectacle, the Fell Dragon crashed into the ocean with a deafening, final boom. A mangled heap. Her massive frame broken, battered, butchered. Wings cleaved. Tails severed. Heads missing. The water surged around her carcass—no longer red, no longer weeping.

  The sky began to clear. The dark dome of clouds unravelled, releasing the world from the storm's grip. The sea, too, stilled.

  Ouroboros clicked his tongue.

  "A shame you summoned my sister, Theoktonos," he grumbled, glancing over his shoulder. "I can't even tell which of those glorious cleaving marks were mine."

  Freed from the pressure of the battle, Theoktonos exhaled and stepped forward, sheathing Dark Excalibur in a sheath wrought from absence itself.

  "You moved in concert with Fate," he said evenly. "You've lived this battle infinite times. That should have been enough to satisfy your ego."

  His voice sharpened. "And besides, in every iteration, you hold back. Always using a diluted Cosmic Convergence. Always restraining yourself—for Sathiel's sake. For Akashirae's. There's no shame in kindness, Ouroboros. We're both men here."

  Ouroboros rolled his eyes and licked a smear of Tiamat's blood from his halberd with his regenerating tongue—an act as casual as it was grotesque.

  "Tch. You're still so dreadfully sincere. And predictable," he said, dry as old paper. "Still... this Tiamat was barely a challenge. A flicker of intrigue, maybe."

  He cast a glance at the vanquished dragon.

  "Yet the Instability wrought by Finality... that damage is real. Beyond repair. Far worse than anything we Deicides have ever inflicted."

  Then came a laugh.

  From the ruins of Tiamat's mouth, Sathiel emerged—armour cracked and smeared with iridescent blood, yet still smiling.

  "Whew!" she said, stretching as if waking from a nap. "That was something else, huh? But hey, we're all alive! Talk about a close call!"

  "Your resilience is... well-known," Theoktonos replied with a faint smile. "Fate has shown me the depths of your spirit time and time again. You shine brightest when all else is consumed."

  "Aw, you're gonna make me blush," she laughed, shaking dragon gore from her flail and shield. "Still, I gotta say... ending things like that? Felt way too easy. I was ready for round two!"

  Her eyes drifted upward—catching the halberd spinning lazily in the air, and the figures standing near Theoktonos.

  She blinked.

  "Wait. Theoktonos, who... who are they?" Her voice quieted. "I feel like I've met them before. But they're... different. Stronger. Way stronger. Like... more than primordial."

  "Your intuition is correct," Ouroboros said. "To us, gods and primordials are mere shadows. Echoes. Memories before they're even born."

  He smirked, stepping forward, halberd twirling.

  "Do you not fear death, Pestilence?"

  He halted the blade's arc an inch from her cheek.

  "Or is it simply that you cannot feel pain?"

  Sathiel didn't flinch.

  He studied her closely.

  "You've thrown yourself into Tiamat's jaws again and again," he murmured. "Her blood. Her breath. Her very being is entropy incarnate—devouring even Chaos. But you endure. Again and again."

  His tongue flicked out, damaged, twitching—regenerating with each breath.

  "And yet... I suspect it's not you I should fear," he added, glancing once more toward the heavens, where Lumi'Nae floated, perfectly still. "Not when your Lady Finality is watching over you.

  "Perhaps you're even more indestructible than I."

  Sathiel's grey eyes narrowed with mild indignation. "Even if Lady Lumi'Nae no longer requires my aid, I shall always fight for both her and me. Still, I confess . . . her well-being matters more to me than my own."

  She smiled, then corrected with firm pride, "And for the record, Sir Halberd—it's Sathiel, Goddess of Light. Not Pestilence."

  "Details, details," Ouroboros replied with a lazy grin. "They're both you, aren't they? Why so fussy?"

  Before Sathiel could retort, the air shimmered with divine resonance. Lumi'Nae descended with ethereal grace, landing lightly upon Nexus Piercer, her presence exuding silent authority.

  "Hello, Fate," she greeted, her voice gentle, otherworldly.

  Then she turned to the man beside her. "Paradox. It seems your halberd has fulfilled its function."

  A subtle tap of her heel against the weapon was all it took. The gesture was more than a signal—it was a command woven in elegance.

  Fate inclined her head in greeting, a subtle motion full of aeons' worth of shared understanding. Ouroboros chuckled darkly.

  "So, you do remember us," he mused. "But tell me—have your senses dulled, or is the Ruiner beneath even your notice now, Finality?"

  His gaze slid to Akashirae. "One of us has been remiss, dear sister. Tiamat still breathes."

  Sathiel's expression shifted—uncertain, alarmed—as her gaze dropped to Tiamat's motionless, mutilated form.

  "What?" she murmured.

  Akashirae flicked her finger against Ouroboros's chest. "Accusing me of error? Really, foolish little brother? Have you forgotten so soon?" Her crimson eyes narrowed, glinting. "I merely granted the Ruiner a more merciful fate. As Theoktonos wished."

  She softened, almost playfully. "But I'll forgive your baseless accusation. After all, that's what elder sisters do."

  Ouroboros snorted. "You? Elder? Look at the height difference! I'm practically two of you stacked."

  As he retracted Nexus Piercer, Lumi'Nae leapt gracefully from its haft and strode toward Tiamat's remaining heads.

  "Wake up, Tiamat," she said softly. Her voice echoed, gentle yet unyielding. "Seems my companions have a different destiny in store for you."

  A beat passed—and then, the monstrous dragon stirred.

  Two of Tiamat's surviving heads blinked open with renewed malice. One lunged at Theoktonos—only for Akashirae, still facing away, to lash out with a backfist so swift it shattered the head into a bloom of gore and black mist.

  The other careened toward Lumi'Nae, eyes alight with raw hatred.

  She did not flinch.

  Raising her right stump, she met the attack head-on. In a moment of grotesque elegance, her limb absorbed Tiamat's essence—twisting, shifting, reshaping. A new arm emerged—humanoid in shape, but scaled, clawed, draconic. Nihilpotence pulsed through it.

  Tiamat's voice surged through the arm—and the realm.

  "I will devour you all... and rise beyond reckoning!"

  Her power surged, her will clawing its way into Lumi'Nae's soul. The change was immediate. Her calm, oceanic eyes narrowed into slits of molten gold. Fangs jutted from her smile. Indigo scales bloomed across her flesh.

  "Aaaa... Guys?" she said with a grin that was all teeth. "I might accidentally kill you all. The urge for senseless destruction is... surprisingly tempting."

  "That's not funny!" Sathiel snapped. "Cut it out, Tiamat! Lady Lumi'Nae is not yours to control! Take Sir Halberd's body instead!"

  "Oi," Ouroboros interjected, raising an eyebrow. "You don't get to volunteer me, brat. And it's Lord Ouroboros. Honestly, Ruiner—just take her. Maybe she'll learn some manners."

  "My, my. So many bodies to choose from," Akashirae mused. "How lucky she is."

  Theoktonos sighed. "What a day... I'm famished. Ouroboros, wasn't it you who perfected that cosmic curry?"

  Lumi'Nae blinked. The transformation halted. Tiamat's influence waned.

  "You lot..." she murmured, eyes narrowed. "Aside from Sathiel, none of you are worried about me at all, are you?"

  She raised her draconic arm, now twitching with malevolent hunger, and tapped it lightly with her left hand.

  The arm dissolved into mist.

  That mist gathered again—forming the shape of a woman.

  A figure emerged from the haze: tall, with long, wild white hair, two wicked horns, and golden eyes that burned like twin suns. She wore gleaming white armour lined with fur, unblemished and divine.

  Lumi'Nae, restored to her human form, regarded her doppelg?nger in silence. So too did the rest.

  "Oi," Ouroboros finally barked, brow furrowed. "Who is this? Speak, Finality. I can't see into her thoughts. Or yours."

  "You're embarrassing yourself, brother," Akashirae muttered, casting off her hood. Her crimson war paint streaked beneath sharp, commanding eyes. Twin fox ears twitched as they escaped confinement, proud and alert. "It should be obvious."

  Lumi'Nae turned back to the strange woman.

  "Tiamat," she said gently, "would you care to join us on our journey?"

  The white-armoured woman raised a brow. "Only if I can destroy whatever I like. And kill you all when I get bored."

  "Ehhh... Okay."

  "Wait—what?!" Sathiel exclaimed, aghast. "Is no one going to object? I do not feel safe!"

  Akashirae shook her head with a weary sigh. "Tis fate."

  And then, the realm itself responded.

  From the shattered abyss bloomed a field of white flowers—each petal glowing softly beneath a pale blue moon. The darkness lifted. The wind whispered gently across the new world.

  The companions stood in silence, the tranquil beauty before them catching them off guard. Even war-forged hearts could be stilled by such peace.

  "In the deepest dark," Theoktonos said, "we found luminance. Let us name this place—Luminous Garden."

  "The hell you are!" Tiamat roared. "Abyss Garden. Final answer. I'll mutate these stupid flowers into monsters that devour the void itself!"

  "Oi, you loud-mouthed lunatic," Ouroboros snarled, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air. He stepped forward, eyes glinting turquoise with an ancient threat. "You think I give a damn about your flowers, your garden, or your void-munching monstrosities?"

  He raised Nexus Piercer slightly, the halberd humming with barely restrained annihilation.

  "Spill your chaos anywhere near me or mine," he continued, voice like a drawn blade, "and I'll drive this through your heart again faster than your next blink."

  A silence fell, heavy with potential violence.

  Tiamat grinned, unrepentant. "Now that's more like it."