The pitch-black moon shattered into pieces across the sky.
At first, its speed appeared extremely slow to the naked eye. People watched as the moon gradually split into several large fragments in midair. They slowly drifted apart, then cracks spread densely across the moon's entire surface. With a thunderous boom, it expanded and broke apart into countless smaller fragments. The pieces broke free of one another's gravity and flew in all directions.
At first, the scene unfolding before everyone's eyes was utterly still. But it gradually accelerated. Several minutes later, the scattered fragments began to pierce the clouds, dragging long, golden-red tails of flame behind them.
It was as though steel rain had begun to fall from the sky. At first, there were only scattered points of light. Then, line after line of golden light slowly carved across the firmament, densely packed and illuminating the horizon.
The sky gradually grew brighter, as if the clouds themselves had caught fire. The flames of the meteor fragments dyed half the sky a golden red reminiscent of the apocalypse.
Those golden lines were reflected in Brando's dark-brown eyes.
The golden-red sky, the meteors descending through the clouds—he recalled when he had seen such a scene before. It had been in that dream where he fought Bai. The sight before him was almost identical to what he had seen in his second dream.
A voice thundered in his mind.
The dusk of all worlds, the twilight of the gods.
The Rose Garden had fallen into complete silence. The entire imperial capital, even the Bankel region, was shrouded beneath the bright light of destruction. Faced with such a scene, what could people possibly do?
Before the apocalypse descended, who could protect themselves?
By then, the larger fragments had already entered the clouds. The thick cloud