The eyes of the True Depravita of Wrath, the White Death, Overlord, Merlin, and Ankil widened as they heard those words.
Until this moment, they had managed to maintain a fragile sense of optimism about the future. That hope rested on a single belief: that they still had time—time to grow stronger, time to prepare, time to gather the strength necessary to face the Ancient Ones.
But if that time were taken away…
Then everything they had built would collapse.
They were strong, they were growing at a shocking speed, and once they took the bloodlines of Heaven, they would rise like shooting stars. However, they needed time.
It would only take two Empyrean for the entire Six Sun Alliance to perish, and the Ancient Ones had more than that.
"What exactly is happening?" the White Death asked.
His voice was somber, but firm. The question carried the weight of a demand.
