The world trembled beneath the weight of Nyx's descent. High above the crumbling cities and shattered remnants of civilization, the skies swirled with dark clouds, as though the heavens themselves recoiled in fear of what was coming. A silence swept over the land, a collective breath held as the figures of Nyx and her darkened form took center stage in the cosmos above. The moment felt like a stillness before a storm, the air thick with anticipation and dread.
On the ground, scattered groups of survivors and heroes, those still clinging to hope amidst the apocalypse, looked up in a unified gaze. Faces, once full of determination and resolve, now reflected shock, disbelief, and confusion. They had seen her before—this goddess of the abyss who once fought for their cause. Her name was once whispered with reverence, a symbol of defiance against the encroaching darkness. But now, as she descended, those same heroes trembled.
