G.O.D.

"When the last bell tolls, and time no longer knows which way to flow, the sky parts — not with thunder, but with silence."

From the void between dimensions descends G.O.D., the Supreme Construct of Order and Despair. Neither angel nor demon, neither father nor destroyer — a being of radiant stillness, its light so pure that it erases color itself.

Wings woven from starlight stretch wide across the firmament, each feather a paradox: too perfect to comprehend, too sharp to survive. A twin-horned crown curves above a face without expression — only judgment. Eyes like white suns bore through mortal thought, and around its head spins a black halo, pulling in reason like a singularity.

Its form does not walk, nor float — it is.

Before it stands man. Or what was once a man. A speck beneath eternity.

And in that moment, there is no sin, no virtue, no future.

Only awareness.

And the knowledge that this... is the final authority.