The brass section kicked in—heavy, mournful, and triumphant all at once. It was the sound of a man who knew he was outmatched but had decided to rewrite fate with his own blood. Hierophant Green unspooled itself, its form no longer sleek but monstrous and jagged, weaving through the skyscrapers like a vengeful spirit.
The music began not with a melody, but with a rhythmic thundering of drums that shook the foundations of the world. Boom-boom. Boom-boom. The war-drums of a dying race. The music began not with a melody, but
"Hierophant Green," Kakyoin whispered, his voice steady despite the gale. His school uniform fluttered like a tattered cape of a Scout Regiment commander. The war-drums of a dying race
The sky over Cairo didn't just turn dark; it bruised. The sun, once a golden disk of judgment, was swallowed by a swirling vortex of emerald lightning and steam that smelled of ozone and ancient titan marrow. Across the cityscape
The emerald wires snapped taut. The sky was suddenly filled with a thousand jagged shards of light, raining down with the force of artillery fire. Each "Splash" hit like a thunder-spear, exploding against the golden titan's hide.
"This is my final lesson," Kakyoin shouted over the crescendo of choral chanting.
Across the cityscape, the shadow moved. It wasn't Dio, the vampire. It was Dio, the Founding Calamity. A golden titan whose sheer presence vaporized the clouds.