The rescue took several days, longer than any of them wished, but the ArchDeities finally managed to gather every surviving inhabitant from the small worlds orbiting the fallen Abyssalcrown Empyrean World. One by one, those worlds had been emptied, their people collected and carried inside Inner Universes or space treasures.
A heavy silence settled over the group. No one dared speak as their gazes drifted toward the distant wall of corrupted fire and flesh that still burned over the ruined world they had failed to save. Its radiance flickered violently, casting twisted reflections across their armor and weary faces. Then, as though in unspoken agreement, their attention shifted to the unconscious figure of the Scarlet King resting in Anark's arms.
