The Temporal Crucible was silent—a stillness so profound it felt as if the universe itself had paused to draw breath.
The infinite echoes of Azraeth, once an unrelenting tide of synchronized fury, were now frozen in place. Blades forged from collapsed stars hovered inches from Ethan's skin, their deadly glow dimming as if snuffed out. Fists wreathed in void hung motionless, their crushing intent suspended in time. The swirling maelstrom of shattered moments that had raged around them had gone still—a frozen sea of light and shadow stretching into infinity.
Ethan stood at the center of it all, golden flames flickering softly around him like embers drifting from a dying fire. His chest rose and fell with steady, controlled breaths, each exhale a faint shimmer in the Crucible's charged air. His golden eyes—burning with a power that defied the void—locked onto the singular being before him: Azraeth, the Eternal Sovereign.
