The Temporal Crucible trembled, its boundless expanse shuddering as if the very concept of existence quaked under the strain. The air thrummed with a low, resonant hum, a sound that burrowed into Ethan's bones and set his teeth on edge. Shadows and light twisted in a relentless dance, the void pulsing with an energy that defied comprehension—a storm of infinite possibilities raging around him.
Ethan barely had time to react before the first wave of Azraeth's Infinite Echoes struck. They emerged from splintered timelines like specters of inevitability—countless variations of the Eternal Sovereign, each one a mirror of his timeless power. Their silver-and-black armor gleamed with the sheen of collapsed galaxies, their movements synchronized with a precision that transcended mortal limits.
They were an army of executioners, each wielding reality itself as a weapon, their golden eyes locked on Ethan with unerring focus.
