The sky above Blood Moon has never held a sunrise like this.
Not gold.
Not violet.
Not any color the world has ever dared to name.
It rises bleeding.
A wounded god thrashes silently inside a living lattice, and the universe rushes to claim its weakness.
Not out of mercy.
Out of hunger for the end of Hunger.
⸻
The first to arrive are the Witnesses.
The Fallen Pantheon marches across the northern horizon in a storm of broken halos and battle-scarred divinity.
The Star-Titans wake from their mantle tombs and ascend, still dripping molten crust.
The Glass Choir—beings once devoured by Hunger—reassemble themselves from refracted light.
They do not come as allies.
They come as executioners.
Jason pales as he reads the sudden influx of power signatures.
“Every force the Predator e
