The celestial palace, once a beacon of serenity and divine order, now trembled under the weight of an unholy presence. The Fallen, a grotesque parody of angelic grace, stood defiant, its blackened wings outstretched, its eyes burning with a malevolent fire. The air crackled with a volatile energy, a clash of opposing forces that threatened to tear the very fabric of the realm asunder.
Sebastian, his imposing figure radiating an aura of unwavering resolve, stepped forward, his silver eyes meeting the Fallen's with a steely gaze. "You will not prevail," he declared, his voice a thunderous boom that echoed through the halls. "Your darkness has no place in this realm."
The Fallen let out a chilling laugh, its voice a raspy whisper that sent shivers down Eliana's spine. "This realm?" it mocked, its tone dripping with disdain. "This realm is but a pale imitation of the true power that awaits us. We will reclaim our rightful place, and you, Demon God, will fall before us."
