The Thrones shuddered.
Their countless eyes shifted toward the strange God standing before them, and for the first time since their arrival, even the soldiers of Heaven felt something close to fear. A few instinctively stepped backward, their golden wings trembling as they struggled to comprehend the presence before them.
It was not simply powerful, it was wrong.
There was no aura to measure, no overwhelming pressure to resist, no familiar energy that could tell them how strong their opponent was. Yet every instinct within them screamed that the being standing before them was something they should never have encountered.
Damian tilted his head slightly.
"I can smell your fear..."
His voice was calm, almost conversational. He slowly shifted his gaze toward the heavenly army, and his crimson eyes narrowed.
"Has Heaven always been this cowardly?"
Buzz!
