The lightning didn't just strike; it unmade. The moment the celestial dragons connected with Ethan's body, his flesh began to disintegrate, turning into ash as the fundamental laws of the world sought to purge the anomaly.
But deep within the marrow of his bones, within the very essence of his crimson-stained blood, something ancient and terrible felt a flicker of profound offense.
From the charred, collapsing form of Ethan, a towering residual image began to manifest. "Lord Amethyst" appeared, his silhouette standing firm against the torrential downpour of white-hot judgment. Ethan was already unconscious, his mind lost in a void of pain, but the phantom of his ancestor looked at the sky as if he were staring at an annoying insect.
Lord Amethyst didn't move. He didn't raise a hand. He simply looked at the shivering strands of the World Matrix and spoke, his voice echoing from a dimension far beyond the reach of the "Laws."
