The moment Louis' fingers closed around the Spear of Longinus, the world broke.
Light swallowed everything. It was not the golden radiance of divinity, nor the harsh glare of fire and destruction, but something else—something ancient, something absolute. It was light that held the weight of history itself.
And then, as suddenly as it had come, the light was gone.
Louis found himself standing in an endless desert.
The air was thick and still, like the silence of a temple untouched by time. The sand beneath his boots shimmered with a soft, otherworldly glow, stretching infinitely in all directions. Above, the sky was neither day nor night, but a vast expanse of golden haze.
He was alone.
Or so he thought.
A lone figure approached from the horizon.
