(Ten minutes before the live broadcast began, the execution platform)
The execution platform stood silent beneath a sky stripped bare of clouds, its dark metal surface drinking in light without reflection as the Chakravyuh formation remained locked in absolute stillness around it, billions of soldiers frozen in place as though the planet itself had been commanded not to breathe.
The air felt tight, not yet charged with mana, but heavy with anticipation, as if reality itself was holding its breath and waiting for permission to exhale.
Then the first disturbance came.
The ground convulsed violently as fractures ripped outward from a single point several hundred meters from the platform, stone exploding skyward as something slammed down with obscene force, the impact rolling outward in a concussive wave that rattled armor, shook teeth, and sent a visible ripple through the inner rings of soldiers.
*KABOOM*
*THUD*
Helmuth had arrived.
He stood amid broken stone and rising dust, boots planted deep within the fractured ground, his massive frame radiating raw heat as though the earth itself resented bearing his weight.
His axe rested against his shoulder, its edge humming faintly, the weapon seeming eager, as if it too sensed what was coming.
Helmuth did not look around.
He did not acknowledge the army.
He simply exhaled, slow and controlled, as his muscles flexed once, the battlefield adjusting instinctively to his presence like prey recognizing a greater predator.
Stone groaned beneath him, reshaping crudely into a throne without artistry or care, as Helmuth dropped into it heavily, axe laid across his knees, eyes already distant as though his thoughts were fixed on the coming war rather than the spectacle unfolding before him now.
The battlefield steadied.
For exactly three seconds.
Then laughter tore through the air.
Sharp.
Mocking.
Delighted.
Space twisted violently near the execution platform as reality itself seemed to stumble, colors bleeding into one another while something tore its way through without permission, leaving behind screaming distortions that made the air recoil.
Mauriss arrived upside down.
He fell from nothingness laughing, spinning lazily before landing on his feet with a flourish that cracked the stone beneath him, arms spread wide as if greeting an audience only he could see, wild hair floating freely as divine pressure surged outward from his body in erratic, playful bursts that disrupted mana flow across the entire inner ring.
"It’s Lord Mauriss...."
"The Ocean Lord is here...."
The soldiers muttered in disbelief before staggering backward, some keeling over as his pressure swept through them without restraint.
"How handsome...."
"He looks exactly like his paintings...."
The special guests whispered among themselves, some laughing nervously, others pale as instinct screamed at them to look away.
"Ohhh," Mauriss murmured happily, eyes gleaming as he surveyed the battlefield.
"I really do know how to throw a party, don’t I?"
He murmured before strolling forward without care, boots tapping lightly against stone as chaos clung to him like perfume, refusing to settle or align, until a stone seat manifested near Helmuth’s throne, deliberately misaligned and angled just enough to offend symmetry itself.
*Jump*
Mauriss dropped onto it sideways, draping himself across the armrest with exaggerated comfort, chin resting in his palm as he kicked one foot idly, grin sharp and unrepentant as he winked shamelessly toward Helmuth.
"How have you been, handsome?"
He asked, as Helmuth snorted in response, clearly unamused, when the battlefield changed yet again.
*BZZT*
*TRRR—*
A static lightning pulse echoed across the planet, causing dust to settle and mana currents to smooth as Kaelith arrived with measured calm.
There was no flash.
No impact.
One moment the space above the platform was empty.
The next, he stood there.
Calm.
Immaculate.
Absolute.
Unlike the other two, his presence did not press down upon others, but instead anchored them, as his presence directly connected with the Chakravyuh formation under the soldiers feet, and began feeding power into their limbs without their knowledge.
"It’s Lord Kaelith!"
"It’s the Eternal Sovereign! The strongest fighter in the universe!"
The soldiers muttered, as they stared at Kaelith’s immaculate flowing robes with gaping jaws.
"Calm down men.... I’m here."
He murmured, his voice soft and low, as he gazed over the gathered army like an overlord.
*CRRRSHHH*
He stepped forward once, and a throne of perfect symmetry rose beneath him, positioned precisely between Helmuth and Mauriss, and elevated just enough to establish hierarchy without ever needing to declare it.
"Mauriss, Helmuth...."
He muttered, acknowledging his counterparts before taking his seat, as with that, the execution platform felt complete, as the heads of the Universal Government had finally all sat.
"I can’t believe my eyes...."
"The founders of the Universal Government are all sitting together!"
"Oh my God, someone take a photo—this is a memory of a lifetime!"
The spectators erupted in excitement, many trembling with awe, for to them this felt like the greatest moment they would ever witness.
Yet just as they believed the scene could not grow any more overwhelming, the air shifted once more.
Lu Han arrived first, green robes embroidered with fine golden threads that caught the light as he moved, carrying himself with the natural bearing of a regal monarch, as he crossed the platform and took his seat opposite the three Gods of the Universal Government with measured dignity and quiet authority.
Du Trask followed soon after, his broad frame seemingly immovable as ancestral markings etched into his armor glowed faintly with age and lineage.
Ru Vassa descended next, her arrival resembling a restrained storm held firmly in check, as her presence cooled the air and pressed subtly outward, crimson hair flowing freely while tightly controlled mana coiled around her form, her gaze calm, merciless, and utterly unyielding.
Yu Kiro arrived without sound or spectacle, his movements economical and precise, features unreadable as his eyes swept across the execution grounds without urgency, already mapping contingencies within contingencies as though the event had begun long before anyone else realized it.
Finally, Mu Shen appeared last, his presence subtle yet profoundly heavy, eyes deep and unfathomable as he settled into his seat with patient composure, his immense power restrained by deliberate choice, kept tightly leashed so as not to overwhelm the soldiers and spectators beneath him.
They sat together.
Unified.
Five thrones facing three.
The Great Clan Gods.
The second pillar of the Righteous Alliance.
As across the execution platform, the twin forces faced one another in silent symmetry, Universal Government and Great Clans forming the anchors of order, as the countdown to the livestream ticked past the two-minute mark.
The event was about to begin.