The Mirror Realm pulsed faintly in the distance—an orb of fractured light, suspended in the grey sky like a wound that refused to close. It shimmered, then stilled, then shimmered again, as though breathing.
Atlas was within.
And Aurora could not stand still.
The plains of the Third Layer stretched endlessly before her, a scorched and crimson expanse that stank of iron and ozone. The air was thick with energy, restless, alive. Every heartbeat seemed to echo through the armies gathered across the horizon—angels and demons, united beneath the same banners for the first time in eternity.
Her boots crunched against the glass-like soil as she walked beside the Elder. His cloak of blackened silk trailed behind him, whispering secrets with every step. His face was hidden beneath a hood, but his presence was a gravity that bent the air.
