Lucifer stood on the ruined balcony, the Sovereign's Casket heavy in his iron gauntlet.
The air was unnervingly still, save for the faint drift of gray ash that had once been the Avatar. The cloud fell slowly, silently, almost in reverence of the destruction it marked.
But then the air thickened, the world warming into a blistering furnace.
This was no ordinary heat. The temperature climbed rapidly, becoming suffocating. Each breath burned Lucifer's lungs, each step made the floor pulse beneath his boots.
He gritted his teeth, glancing at Elara and Sarah. The Valkyrie's golden wings twitched as if resisting an invisible weight, the Oracle's scepter began to hum faintly with celestial energy. Something had awakened.
The ash stopped mid-air. Gravity seemed to fail. Then, as if drawn by a divine hand, it ignited. Purple fire and golden sparks spiraled upward, forming a ten-foot-tall vortex that churned and roared with impossible power.
