[: 3rd POV :]
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Even the battlefield itself seemed afraid to make a sound.
Fragments of shattered lands hovered motionless in the air, frozen mid-fall, as though reality was waiting for permission to continue.
The ten Conquerors, beings who had ended civilisations without hesitation, hovered in disarray, their auras unstable, their breaths uneven.
Fear had crept in.
Not the fear of death.
Something far worse.
Zarvath was the first to move, his massive wings twitching instinctively as if preparing to take a step back rather than fight.
His pride screamed at him to roar, to attack again, to crush this insolent mortal, but his instincts, ancient and honed through countless apocalypses, were screaming louder.
"That…" Zarvath muttered, his voice lower now, restrained.
"That wasn't defence."
Solara-Vex clenched her fists, galaxies behind her flickering erratically.
