He came with no fanfare. No fire. No screaming.
Just silence.
The land warped. Language forgot itself.
Makagami Tenma walked barefoot across the surface of the world like a god without mercy—or need.
He was beautiful. He was terrifying.
And he bowed.
"Liss Hoshino. Wielder of paradox. Maker of memory. You intrigue me."
Liss stepped forward. Her sword stayed sheathed.
"I'm not here to fight you."
"Then you're unfit to exist," he said gently.
And the world cracked beneath his voice.
Nyori fainted. Naia bled from her ears. Korrin screamed—not in fear, but in recognition.
"He's not from this story," he gasped.
"He's from a higher genre."
Liss stood tall.
"Then let me write a new one."