The first collision came like the end of a world.
Glothar's blade, forged of devouring flame, swung down—not as a strike, but as an inevitability, a falling verdict. The air around it shredded into black petals of erased resonance.
Leon stepped forward. His body screamed, cracks glowing white across his skin, blood and light spilling in the same pulse. He raised his hand, not to block, but to fracture.
"Fifth Pulse—Fracture Requiem!"
The resonance detonated outward, a shivering scream that snapped through the void like glass breaking across a thousand thrones. The clash met not in steel, but in meaning: devouring hunger against absolute refusal.
The explosion hurled everyone back. Naval skidded across the void-floor, stabbing his trident down to anchor himself. Roselia shielded Liliana with a wave of flame, though it guttered dangerously. Roman roared, planting himself like a mountain as shards of resonance tore past.
