The void howled all around the group of students stranded in this dimension. There was no sky, no ground, only endless motionless chaos that breathed and shifted like a dying beast.
The entire realm pulsed in slow, choking rhythm with the Abyssal Crown's heart. Its laughter, now quiet and almost reverent rolled across the darkness like a storm held at bay.
The air smelled of burning divinity. The scent of melted mana, of despair, of fading courage.
They various students were still standing, barely. They had launched most of their power into that final barrage of attacks, and were now all running desperately low on mana.
Lucian staggered forward, his blade dragging against the fractured surface of the void, each step leaving golden streaks of light behind.
Blood dripped from a gash along his ribs, his breaths sharp and uneven. Celeste was beside him, one wing half-charred, her fire flickering weakly as if choking on the weight of the realm's oppression.
