The Nightmares moved in, slow and sure, savoring the moment like wolves circling a broken animal.
He couldn't lift his head anymore.
The air itself felt heavier like the sky was leaning in to smother him.
But then.
The shadows paused. The nightmare hesitated.
No… flinched.
A pulse.
A tear.
Like the world above had been sliced open.
And from that wound in the dark sky of the Zero Zone… She stepped through.
A silhouette against the void, cloaked in a glimmering storm of violet light. Hair like woven stars, eyes like ancient runes carved in gold. She drifted downward, not falling but descending as if gravity itself obeyed her.
Mikail couldn't breathe.
Even the Nightmares froze, their distorted forms trembling, shrinking away from her as though the very concept of her burned them.
She raised her hand.
No words.
Just a gesture.
SWIFT.
From her palm, a blade of Mana unfolded, no, ignited. Like she had peeled it out of the sky itself. It didn't shine. It didn't glow.
