Because what followed wasn't legend.
It was a revelation.
Ethan stood calmly, staring at the tower—taller than mountains, veiled in storms.
And now?
It shook under his gaze.
Raising his right hand slowly, Ethan pointed a single finger at its foundation. A small glow flickered into life, the color of dying stars—silver, but more than silver. A pure essence of collapse and rebirth. A singularity waiting to happen.
"You're no longer needed in this world," Ethan said. His voice wasn't loud, but it echoed across the continent. "You wretch… do you want to come out, or should I destroy this whole place?"
His tone held no arrogance. Only certainty.
And silence answered him.
But silence was not defiance.
It was fear.
...
Ethan didn't wait. The orb on his fingertip began to swell, spinning impossibly fast, its edges blurring as even light itself was pulled into it. People watching from afar screamed, fainted, wept—some simply fell to the ground and never rose again.
