The wills of the four gods reached a consensus, and they acted in an instant, without a moment's hesitation.
The first thing to change was the night sky over Magic City.
The points of starlight adorning the Night Lady seemed to come alive, flowing along mysterious paths.
More darkness surged forth, but it was not evil. Like the primordial void of the cosmos, it spread from her, silently crossing space and seeping toward the distant sea.
This was no direct blast of energy, but interference with the laws of reality on a higher plane.
Above the sea upon which the Gods had fixed their gaze, the stark divide between the gray-white of the Undead and the dark purple of the Abyss seemed to acquire a barely perceptible veil.
The gods' senses, powerful enough to pierce the Void, felt as though they had been plunged into thick ink, growing sluggish and blurred.
Pinpointing Shadow's presence below now took more effort than before. Worse, an uneasy feeling lingered: someone was watching them, but they could not find the source.
At almost the same moment, the Lord of Lies, Dies Martin, made his move.
His already indistinct form dissolved completely into the Void. Only countless Deceit Runes, too fine to see, rode the chaotic energy currents outward like a virus.
Above the sea, Nether Monarch Astaroth faced the Lord of Destruction from afar when his Shadow Throne suddenly trembled.
His cold will caught an exceedingly subtle disturbance. It seemed an ancient god hidden deep within the Undead World, one who should have remained fast asleep, was awakening. That god had taken a keen interest in Shadow and even seemed inclined to join forces with the Abyss to eliminate Astaroth, the "latecomer," first.
"Hmph. Dead, but not gone."
Astaroth's will was cold as iron.