I stared at the flickering remnant of what had once been the God of Darkness. All that remained was an orb of unstable, pulsing energy—trembling in place like it was terrified of me. As if it were hiding the last echoes of something far more ancient than even gods. A fragment of a primordial force.
I couldn't help but laugh internally, my lips curling into a smirk despite the pain still echoing faintly in my bones. It was comically ironic, honestly. This whole situation reminded me of that ancient scribble—Baldy.
The self-proclaimed archivist of forbidden truths. Baldy had likely thought of Chaos too... and that alone was what got him killed. 'How poetic.'
And now me? I'd only said the word—Chaos—and the God of Darkness had unravelled like paper in fire.
'Was I just that damn strong?'
