The four Patriarchs stood frozen, their faces drained of color.
Royce's orange eyes tracked between Azareth and the dimensional tear behind him, his jaw working without sound.
Ashford's grey hair shifted in wind that didn't exist, his hands clenched at his sides.
Cross took a half-step backward, his brown eyes wide.
Even Kinsley's smile had cracked completely, his blue eyes showing something approaching alarm.
Their gazes met across the space between them as understanding rippled through the silence
'The Light Bearers... are kneeling before a human boy...'
'Child of Light... Seat of Humility... Battle of Chosen Ones...'
'If that Oracle chose him… then he is–'
The crowd waited, thousands of eyes locked on where Damian knelt with Brian's corpse in his arms.
Cameras focused, reporters held their breath, billions watching through screens across every region.
Then cutting through the suffocating silence, a voice resonated across the field.
