Valerie's death wasn't mentioned.
It didn't need to be.
The implication was clear—those who resist this truth, or seek to exploit it, will be erased like footnotes in dust.
A map was shown—layered over a sphere of Earth.
Seven Guardian Command Zones marked the continents.
A Task Force had been formed under them, composed of revived divine beings from prior civilizations.
The gods were real.
They were back.
And they were under Wang Xiao's banner.
Protocols were announced:
Report anomalies.
Observe cracks in space.
Refuse contact with the Other Side.
Loyalty would be rewarded.
Silence or sabotage would be punished—with public execution.
The world had been militarized under a single cosmic authority.
And that authority was not human.
Then came the part that broke everyone.
The history.
Not the ones in their books.
The one that was forbidden.
And it didn't begin on Earth.
"You are descendants of prisoners."
