The explosion shook the air.
BOOM!
It wasn't an ordinary explosion—it was the smooth, brutal impact of the Bifröst colliding with the mortal plane. The Norse runes burned on the garden floor like blue embers, forming a perfect circle with interwoven patterns that snaked like living serpents. The cosmic rainbow shone for an instant… and then dissipated, leaving only shimmering smoke.
Vergil emerged first.
Yawning.
As if he'd just stepped off a crowded bus, not returned from a divine conclave where he'd split reality in two and humiliated a champion of the gods.
"Woo…" he murmured, stretching like a lazy cat as he traversed the incandescent runes.
Ada followed close behind, adjusting her hair, still with that protective look she only had when she was beside him.
Brynhildr stood on the runic circle, the Nordic aura still pulsing around her feet. The wind tugged at her blonde braids as she watched the two walk away.
