The spatial scythe of the Abyssal Void Sovereign fell like a headsman’s axe across the throat of reality.
Two hundred feet of tightly packed space-folding void and negative gravity dropped upon Frank with the striking force of ten million pounds of nearby shear. The blade sped up through the rotten-egg underground fog. Then, the three-space-folding space along its cutting edge peeled apart like charred parchment. It showed the screaming, freezing empty pocket of non-existence that lay beneath the mortal plane. The sheer gravity shifted weight of the swing was enough to crush a mountain range. Air in the deep gap was sucked toward the blade with the howling fury of a category-five hurricane. It pulled millions of tons of loose shale into its wake.
Up on the surface two thousand feet above, the grandmasters and sect elders watching through sight relay mirrors screamed in terror. They closed their eyes as the universe prepared to erase the mortal youth in denim. “It’s over!” an elder cried, burying his face in the dirt. “Ten million pounds of space-folding shear! Even if the legendary Great Desolation Emperor dropped in his prime, he would have to sacrifice three ancient spirit treasures just to deflect such a strike! That mortal boy will be atomized into nothingness!”
