The shattered Winter Mirror Snow Country unleashed torrents of terrifying Spatial Shattering force from every fallen shard, ink-black traces slicing the vast platform space into fragments.
The strings of law snapped, playing a silent lament.
Every black scar was a wound in the world, greedily devouring light and warmth.
Dago was perhaps the only intact thing amid this expanse of "shattering."
He stood in the center of the turbulent currents, his black hair whipping wildly, his eyes transformed into the most precise instruments.
He watched Gellman's body shatter into countless pieces, rapidly reassemble, and then break apart once more.
A stream of silver particles darted through the cracks between dimensions, attempting to reconstruct the logic of flesh and blood.
Just as the entire space was nearly consumed by an utterly black backdrop, Dago suddenly reached out and seemed to seize something amid the flickering silver fragments.
The pure black lightning was no longer a shield, but fangs that tore reality apart.
A demonic claw reached into the void, its fingertips touching that sole physical coordinate spinning at high speed.
When all the spectacle faded, no ice, snow, or lightning remained on the platform. It was so tranquil that it seemed as if nothing had happened, leaving only Dago standing silently in the center.
He held up one hand, his five fingers tightly gripping a slender figure who looked rather frail in comparison to him.
Gellman's limbs hung limply, like a swan with a broken neck lifted by a hunter.
His protective field shattered like glass, crystalline fragments rapidly sublimating in the air.
"You!"
Gellman's face darkened, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief.
His pupils constricted violently, reflecting that huge, savage black hand.
He stared at Dago in disbelief, then slowly lowered his gaze—a muscular arm interwoven with pure black