The skies pulsed violet.
Above the jagged cliffs of the Ancients' Cross, the heavens cracked open not with lightning, but with raw, divine tension. Wind howled in wide, angry arcs, and at the center of the storm stood Athena. Her silver hair snapped around her like lashes of moonlight, and her eyes glowed with an unnatural light. Her bare feet gripped the rock as if the earth itself steadied her.
Across from her stood the First One—the original devourer, a beast cloaked in shadows older than time, his form warped by centuries of hunger. His twisted wolf shape reeked of magic and rot, with horns curving out of a snout lined with obsidian fangs.
He moved like smoke and thunder.
"You've returned to your true self," the First One growled, voice layered with the echoes of every soul he had consumed. "Goddess of the Moon. You should never have awakened."
Athena narrowed her eyes. "You should never have survived."
They clashed.
