Each of them, nameless to history, but bright flames in the tide of this war.
Ivana stood atop a frost-summoned platform, her silver hair flowing, eyes like carved diamond.
She didn't need to command them with raised voice. Her presence was command.
With her fans folded at her side, she looked over the convergence of the world's might—generals, rogues, scholars, juggernauts, all unified.
"This isn't just Earth's stand," she finally said. "It's every bloodline, every star that birthed a beast soul, fighting for survival. Let's give them a war they'll never forget."
And the armies—Earth's very soul—surged behind her.
The sky above the Outlands had lost its color.
A curtain of spiritual pressure blanketed the battlefield—an oppressive, electric tension that made the air taste like rust and steel.
The portals loomed, dark and trembling with unspent malice, and Earth's forces had gathered in a circle of power that stretched beyond mountains.
