Primus raised one hand.
And moved.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Perfectly.
His palm sliced through the air—
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
Each sword shattered on contact.
Split.
Crushed.
Erased.
Golden light rained down like broken stars.
Within seconds—
Nothing remained.
Primus lowered his hand.
Silence followed.
At the center of the Time Domain—
Nolan felt it.
The strain.
Damn it… for real.
These primordial beings were on an entirely different level.
Nolan could feel it—deep in his bones, in the strain tearing through his core.
They weren't even trying yet.
Some of the deities had already retreated to a safe distance, their instincts screaming at them to stay back.
Others remained on the front lines, teeth clenched, bodies brimming with power, fully prepared to give everything they had.
And that was the problem.
The primordials were holding back—vastly.
Not even a fraction of their true power had been unleashed.
