The spiral stopped.
Silence consumed the heavens.
Then a crack split the eclipse vertically.
Not outward.
Inward.
From within the darkness, an eye opened.
It was not like the Lords.
It had no shape, no defined form—only endless depth, like a galaxy compressed into a wound.
Azrath's voice trembled for the first time.
"It sees you."
The eye focused directly on Kaito.
Not with hatred.
Not with rage.
But recognition.
"You were always meant to be mine," a voice echoed—not in sound, but in thought.
The hunter's sacred blade shattered just from the pressure.
Silver Eyes screamed as her vision filled with futures collapsing one after another.
Kaito felt something pull at the compressed core inside him.
The being wasn't trying to break free.
It was trying to synchronize.
And that terrified him more than destruction ever could.