Light exploded from Judas's body like a beacon, a blinding surge that filled the room.
It wasn't just a flash; it was as though a part of the world itself had been erased.
The spears—gone. The bullets—vanished.
Emir's sword, mid-swing, was stopped in its tracks and sent flying.
There were no exceptions.
It all was swallowed in pure, radiant light.
The floor buckled beneath the force of it, the surrounding debris incinerated in an instant.
Emir staggered back, shielding his eyes from the overwhelming brightness.
Aquila was forced to halt his next shot, raising an arm to protect himself.
For a moment, the room was plunged into silence, the light searing through every shadow, every crack, no matter how deep, erasing all in its path.
And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the light faded.
Judas stood in the same spot, unharmed, with no new scratch marring his cloak.
