Alex's blade completed its arc.
The Seventh Form awakened.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the world fell inward.
Gravity ceased to be a direction—it became a command. Space in front of Alex twisted, folding in on itself as though reality were being crushed by an unseen hand.
The air screamed. Light bent into warped ribbons, stars in the sky stretching into pale scars as if the heavens themselves were being dragged toward a single point.
Avaloria began to die.
Mountains groaned and slid like loose sand. Entire districts tore free from the earth, streets and towers lifting into the sky as rivers reversed their flow, spiraling upward.
The land fractured in widening rings, continents collapsing toward the path of that single slash.
The Seventh Form did not cut.
It declared an end.
It created a domain where gravity was no longer a force—but an absolute.
