The stars above the multiversal sky churned in cyclonic spirals, as if the cosmos itself recoiled from what was about to occur.
Lucius stood beneath the infinite night, his cloak fluttering, his eyes reflecting constellations that no mortal world had ever mapped. Around him, the battleground of reality trembled with residual energy from the shattered barriers he'd passed to reach this moment. The final gate had fallen. The last lock broken.
And before him, at the heart of a plane untouched by time, the Throne Eternal hovered atop a platform of black marble, suspended in the void by chains of frozen starlight. Upon that throne reclined the woman who had usurped destiny itself.
The Empress.
