Scarlet stood at the heart of the Black Womb, the pocket realm Kale carved between timelines. His presence pulsed like a star, but she felt her own soul rearranging—pulling fragments of herself together like shards of a broken blade.
Her divine sigils slowly began to reform across her skin—faint, like cracks of starlight. Her power wasn't like Kale's. Not vast. Not endless.
But focused.
Pure.
"I can't fight armies," she told him quietly. "Not like you."
Kale turned to her. "No. But you can bind fate itself."
He stepped closer, his voice softer now—no longer the voice of a Singularity, but the man she loved.
"And that might be stronger than any god."
Virelsa watched from beyond the veil.
For the first time… she hesitated.
Two singularities were forming—one in power, the other in will.
Together, they were becoming more dangerous than the loops.
Together, they were beginning to rewrite the very concept of endings.
"The Flame remembers her name," Virelsa hissed.
"I will unmake them both."
But it was too late.
In the next dawn, Kale burned a path through the remnants of the godless pantheons.
And beside him, Sel'marieth walked barefoot through ash and starlight—eyes glowing with purpose.
Their war had begun.
Not to survive.
But to end the age of gods.
Forever.