"That's enough."
The voice dropped into the room like a hammer. Cold. Flat. Not loud—but final.
Everyone felt it. The Creators stiffened. Their companions followed. But it hit Nyxara the hardest. The move it was pulling twisted apart mid-formation, collapsing into itself like it got struck from the inside. Nyxara's form shuddered, mist flickering at the edges. Something inside it tore—silent, but deep.
"Tch."
Its reply came through like a broken transmission, warped and frustrated.
Hiroshi's senses caught up slowly. The room wasn't quiet anymore. In fact, it was too loud now.
'I didn't even notice all these little sounds before. Must've been that void—just blanked everything out. Now that it's gone... it's like the noise came back sharper. Realer.'
He looked up. And there it was.
"You finally intervened! What took you so long?!"
Torvald snapped, voice raised, arms swinging like that'd help. He was staring at the figure floating above them.
Alpha.
