Silence followed.
Not the peaceful kind.
It was the suffocating silence that came after catastrophe, when the mind refused to accept what the eyes had just witnessed.
The colossal black hole hung in the sky like a wound carved into reality itself. It did not rage or roar. It simply existed, and existence around it bent in submission.
Ships that had been moments away from destruction drifted helplessly, their formations flickering. Cultivators stood frozen on decks, weapons half raised, mouths open, eyes locked on the impossible scene unfolding above the Sitria Ocean.
The demonic octopus thrashed violently.
Its tentacles slammed against the sea, against ships, against nothing at all. Entire sections of its massive body were being pulled upward, stretched thin like molten tar as the Void singularity devoured it piece by piece.
The demonic cultivator atop its head finally stopped laughing.
His face twisted in horror.
