The march through the Silver Citadel was a surreal, unnerving parade.
The hard-light highways stretched for miles, pristine and entirely abandoned. The Golden Fleet had scattered.
The celestial garrisons were empty. Lucifer's thirteen-million-strong mortal army marched with terrifying confidence, their weapons burning with pitch-black Void-fire.
The Aura of the War God radiated from the Crown of Conquest on Lucifer's belt, erasing their fear and tripling their strength.
They felt invincible.
Lucifer knew better.
He walked at the absolute front of the Vanguard, his heavy iron boots clicking rhythmically against the glowing bridge.
Elara and Lyra flanked him. Above them, Zephyria glided silently through the golden sky, the floating city casting a massive, protective shadow over the marching columns.
