The empire was watching history.
They just didn't know which history.
Thousands of voices filled the Imperial Arena as Sovereign Soulfire and Endless Eclipse tore the battlefield apart for the hundredth time, silver-gold light cutting through shadow, shadow swallowing light, the cycle repeating with the kind of spectacle that people would describe to their grandchildren. The elders had stopped pretending to appear unmoved. The referee had abandoned the boundaries of professional neutrality somewhere around the fortieth exchange.
Nobody noticed the crack running beneath all of it.
The first seal broke just after the third collision.
Seraphina felt it go — a sensation like a knuckle popping after years of pressure, sudden and sharp and followed immediately by a specific quality of relief that she recognized as dangerous. Relief meant the effort was working. Working meant the Creator's attention would follow.
She didn't slow down.
