Wincent raised the God Hand, and the white aura around him flared. The pressure in the air thickened until it felt like the sky itself was pressing down on the plaza. The hand of God rose with absolute power, its fingers spread out, and the mana around it responded.
A massive hand materialized in the air above them.
It was translucent, enormous, easily the size of a house. Its fingers curled slowly, deliberately, like a god preparing to crush an insect. The palm faced downward, and the pressure radiating from it made the shattered stones tremble.
Alice's eyes snapped up. Her pupils shrank.
"Get ready," she said, her voice low and sharp. "He's coming."
Azrynn looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. Her wounded side screamed, but she forced herself to stand.
The divine hand descended.
The sheer weight of its presence made the air itself heavy, pressing down on them from every direction. There was nowhere to run. The attack was wide enough to swallow the entire plaza.
