The war was official. No more shadow games or quiet sabotage. Atlas stood on a cracked balcony overlooking the middle districts of Heaven as Raphael's voice boomed across every realm. Protocol Eternal Order activated instantly.
Golden barriers slammed down. Streets reorganized themselves into rigid blocks. Angels in white robes suddenly carried clipboards and ink quills that glowed with enforcement runes. Every movement now needed forms.
Every spell required approval stamps. The entire layer of Middle Heaven turned into a giant bureaucratic machine overnight.
"Idiots," Atlas muttered. "They think paperwork will stop us."
Skritch grinned beside him, his imp tail flicking.
"Boss, they just gave us the perfect target. Central Scriptory. That floating archive writes the actual rules in real time. We hit it now, before the lockdown finishes, and we plant some permanent chaos."
Elara checked her blades. "I'm in. Let's make them regret declaring war."
