The Lord of Change fell silent, and then came anger. A god's anger was so terrifying that you did not even need eyes to see it.
The stars shifted, and reality collapsed, splitting apart. Chaotic nebulae wailed as they returned to the way they had been tens of millions of years ago, then leaped forward at terrible speed and became specks of dust in the air. Amid that dreadful sight, the Mage laughed in a low voice.
The Azure Eagle beat its heavy wings and left his arm. Howling gales replaced its form amid rolling thunder, and the blue radiance grew ever fiercer, faintly reaching a point where it could stand against Thunderbolt as an equal.
"You—"
The storm roared, grinding millions of worlds into powder. The denizens of Chaos had never dreamed they would die in such a way.
"You crossed the line!" It accused. "You should have become a god or died! You should not be doing this!"
No one answered It. There was only thunder, growing louder and louder. The Mage stood where he was, while the chaotic, disordered stars still howled wretchedly, boiling beneath his feet. He raised his right hand, and a blaze of brilliant light appeared in his open palm.
It was hotter than the sun, angrier than Thunderbolt, sharper than a blade, and more exhausted than the dead. It was the crystal formed by a man after enduring ten thousand years of torment, a gathering of divinity.
And now, the Mage grasped it.
"Stop—!"
The Lord of Change's form shifted again in the wild wind. It became a dazzling blue planet, spinning in place and blazing with light.
"You cannot no, you can! But you cannot!" It cried out, words twisting before and after. "The one who should become a god is him,