The endless void shimmered. A black throne sat atop the fragments of collapsing realities, each one bending and distorting around the figure seated upon it—Kairyuuha. His presence, twisted yet poised, rippled through existence. Around him, time surrendered. The laws of nature stilled.

  Vorthal'Zyn’s eyes burned as his form reconstituted in the fractured cosmos. He stared across the collapsing expanse where the throne hovered—Kairyuuha's throne.

  “So you’ve caged me in your domain,” Vorthal'Zyn muttered. “But what is a cage to a being who has no shape?”

  Kairyuuha leaned forward, his fingers curled beneath his chin. “You call this a cage? No. This... is a grave.”

  With a flick of his wrist, the throne behind him stretched endlessly into the dark—a spiraling corridor of void and voices that didn’t belong to any known realm. Stars bent. Light wept. Even gravity recoiled.

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  Yet as reality groaned, Vorthal’Zyn raised his hand.

  And spoke.

  “Y’Hamarth Aetherion: The Inversion of Thrones.”

  A soundless thunder erupted.

  In the distance—no, in all directions—a golden tower tore into existence, piercing through the collapsing multiverse like a spear. Its foundation pulsed with seven glowing infinity symbols, sapphire in hue, each rotating in opposite directions as if rejecting causality itself. This was not a place. This was law made structure. Dominion incarnate.

  The tower did not appear—it was remembered. As if the universe had always known it, feared it, and chose to forget.

  The two dimensions began to bleed into one another, their edges crackling, fighting for dominance. And then—

  Cracks.

  First in the fabric between them. Then through the sky. Through the cosmos.

  One universe screamed.

  Another bent.

  And the others—countless, silent—watched.

  Vorthal’Zyn’s voice echoed from above and below.

  “I warned you once, Kairyuuha. There is no throne untouched by inversion.”

  Kairyuuha stood. Calm. A wicked glint in his crimson eyes.

  “And I warned you—no throne remains... when mine arrives.”

  He raised his arm, and the void behind him warped, manifesting twisted auroras of reversed creation, bending starlight into blades, his domain feeding on fear, defiance, and authority. Time began to unweave, fraying around Kairyuuha’s steps.

  And the first clash began—two divine dominions roaring, as the universe itself began to shatter.