The eerie silence over the battlefield was more unnerving than the deafening clash of combat.
Charred mecha wreckage and great craters blasted out by angelic fire still sent up thin wisps of smoke. The air was thick with blood and gunpowder, bearing silent witness to the ferocity of the battle that had just ended.
The Angel Legion had withdrawn.
The speed of their retreat showed just how deeply the sudden "Apocalypse Bulletin" had shaken them.
Qin Chuan stood amid the ruins.
The exhilaration of testing his new strength against powerful enemies had given way to cool, measured scrutiny.
The Age of Divine Selection...
He repeated the words silently.
An entirely new era, directed by the Apocalypse.
What kind of power could label every being on this planet—including the gods—as a "player"?
Qin Chuan looked across the Magic City Stronghold.
The members of Apex wore expressions of relief at having survived, mixed with deep confusion.
He knew they were waiting for his orders, for him to make sense of this bewildering turn of events.
"Things are about to get lively." Dies Martin's phantom appeared beside him, his voice carrying its usual mockery. "The Apocalypse has thrown gods and mortals into the same pot. Even those old fossils hiding in the farthest corners won't be able to sit still. Brace yourself. There may be more 'players' than you expect, and some of them are far craftier than you."
Aleisa, Lady of Night, appeared quietly as well. Usually as calm as still water, she spoke now with a rare gravity. "The rules are still unclear, Mr. Shadow. This 'Age of Divine Selection' has never appeared in the past ten thousand years. I fear it may be even more dangerous than the wars before it. The Apocalypse's methods are never simple. We must be