The golden light consumed them. Warm, blinding, weightless.
For a fleeting moment, Dabi felt everything—the weight of the universe, the pulse of something ancient, the whispers of long-forgotten warriors echoing through time, brushing against the edges of his consciousness like the faintest dream. The sensation of a thousand lives interwoven, fleeting and eternal. He could feel the histories of worlds, the heartbeat of life itself, thundering through his soul.
Then—
Darkness.
A deafening silence.
And in the next instant—
Roaring noise. Blinding lights. Cold, hard ground beneath his feet, seeping through his boots like an ancient memory. The scent of dust, sweat, and iron filled the air, unmistakable, grounding him to this reality.
Dabi gasped, his chest heaving as he stumbled forward, his legs unsteady as though they had forgotten their purpose. His vision blurred before snapping back into focus. He wasn't in the throne room anymore.
