The colossal, silent sentinel of the Kosong Purba hovered high above the Jurang Kepunahan, no longer churning, no longer threatening. Its vast presence, once a gaping wound in reality, now felt like a perfectly still, inky canvas against a sky that was slowly, miraculously, stitching itself back together. The jagged, terrifying cosmic cracks that had scarred the heavens began to fade, first softening at their edges, then drawing inward like sutures, until only faint, shimmering lines remained, like distant scars on the celestial dome. The chilling, negating wave of Erosi Eksistensial that had threatened to unravel their world simply ceased. The air, heavy with the stench of ozone and spent power, now felt strangely clean, if still raw.
Grand Elder Jiang, his body slumped against a half-di
