Zephyrion didn't just fly; he claimed the sky. With a single, thunderous beat of his emerald wings, the ground fell away until the Storm-Tossed Peaks looked like pebbles. We were soaring through the upper atmosphere, where the air was thin enough to freeze blood and the wind was a supersonic blade.
"Craig! Do something about this resistance!" Fafnir's roar was muffled by the vacuum.
I stood tall on Zephyrion's back, my hair whipping in the chaotic slipstream. I felt the Celestial Genesis pulsing beneath my feet—the domain was active, a radius of divine authority that kept us anchored, but it wasn't enough to overcome the physics of our speed.
I needed to change the rules of the sky itself.
I reached out, my fingers tracing the invisible lines of the world. I didn't call upon mana; I called upon the fundamental code of the universe.
"Law Manipulation: Friction Nullification!"
