The white light didn’t merely light up the darkness. It destroyed the concept of shadow.
In the underground vault beneath Mount Apex, four thousand meters below the crust of the mortal plane, the surrounding heat didn’t climb—it vaulted directly into sun-hot territory.
At the core of Frank’s lower dantian, the Class-G yellow dwarf star had transitioned into an unconstrained carbon-blast cycle.
For eight long seasons, Frank had treated his internal core like a low-idle workshop boiler. He had vented only tiny fractions of its energy—three percent to heat high-pressure steam, five percent to anneal iron rods, ten percent to power-wash greasy courtyard pavers.
Now, with the throttle opened to one hundred percent, fifteen million Degrees of star-heat of pure solar fusion star-fire vented outward through the palms of his hands.
The physics was total and merciless.
When a stellar core achieves carbon-oxygen starting, the heat wave pressure scales with the fourth power of heat ($P_{rad} \propto T^4$).
At fifteen million degrees, the outward photon pressure doesn’t exert pounds of pressure. It exerts billions of metric tons per square half-inch!
