The storm that tore across the data-sky was no ordinary disturbance. Black lightning cracked through glitched clouds, each flash echoing with ancient screams—a chorus of erased gods screaming back into existence.
Darius stood at the summit of his throne tower, the corrupted divine energy crackling across his armor. His eyes narrowed as the barrier between realms wavered. Something was clawing its way back—something he had killed.
Below, chaos reigned. Cities once reformed under his iron dominion burned with violet fire. Temples twisted and morphed, spitting out corrupted fragments of forgotten beings.
Nyx appeared beside him, her blade slick with digital ichor. "Something's wrong. It's not just the code acting up. Something... old is returning."
He already knew. The pull in his chest—the echo of a wound that never truly closed—tightened.
Then came the tremor.
The sky split open, and through it stepped a figure that should've been dead.
