The blacked-out livestream flickered back to life.
The signal came and went like a candle guttering in the wind, but it was enough for viewers around the world to see the ruins.
A writhing tendril of flesh rose high, covered in players being devoured.
Their bodies slowly merged into the Defiled Flesh and Blood. Their faces twisted from terror into agony, then settled into the same numb suffering as the other faces on the tendril.
Their screams came through the broken signal, shredding every viewer's nerves.
Above it all, three figures hung motionless in the sky.
They were like eternal statues, looking down coldly on the one-sided slaughter, deaf to the cries and deaths below.
Through the livestream, that sight seared itself into the minds of hundreds of millions of players worldwide.
On the Yan Country War Zone forum, the sea of feverish red froze in an instant.
The players who had been shouting "Kneel!" and celebrating the North American War Zone's humiliation now seemed to have hands clamped around their throats. Not one could speak.
On the screen, every sweep of the fleshy tendril meant thousands of lives lost.
This was not a movie effect. It was not a game cutscene.
These were real deaths, happening before their eyes.
Seconds later, one trembling comment broke the forum's silence.
"They... really aren't saving them..."
No one replied.
The truth was right there.
A god's mercy was no cheap handout.
False faith would bring no salvation.
"I... I don't think I can watch anymore," a player whispered in the Guild Channel.
"Then don't." His guild leader's voice was cold. "Do you understand now? Why can we train beneath the Swift Shadow Divine Stone in peace? Why can we queue for quests on the Island of Judgment?"
"Not because we're stronger than