The multiverse shimmered with an incandescent peace, a radiant tapestry of worlds reborn in harmony.
Cities gleamed beneath azure skies, their spires catching the light like blades of crystal. Laughter echoed across verdant plains untouched by the scars of rift or war, a symphony of joy rising from lives Ethan had painstakingly woven back into existence.
From his throne—now the living artifact Zytherion Omnivarch, a monument of dark marble and pulsing gold that seemed to breathe with the pulse of creation—Ethan watched the flow of this restored reality, his golden eyes reflecting a cosmos at rest.
Zytherion's voice cut through the stillness, deep and resonant yet laced with a tremor of unease that rippled through its golden frame. "My lord… something's coming."
Ethan didn't move, his silhouette framed against the infinite void like a lone star in an endless night.
