They resurrected.
Not because they were immortal, but because the law stated they should be.
The Emperor moved like a storm of absolute declarations. With every gesture, he rewrote the battlefield:
Space became finite.
Will required permission.
Movement was taxed in existential burden.
Even Asher, with his 50% unleashed, found his body slowing under that divine pressure. His time manipulation sputtered. His scythe lagged half a heartbeat behind his intent.
And then—
The Emperor grasped the void itself.
He clenched his obsidian fist, and Asher's soul froze.
"The Edict of Stillness," the Emperor intoned. "No sovereign may resist."
Asher dropped to a knee. His vision blurred. His own body denied him. His lungs forgot how to breathe. His soul tried to un-become.
And in that moment of suffocating silence—
Valeris screamed.
