Alarms shrieked across the city. The sky burned unnatural—swirling in hues no earthly spectrum could define. Drones caught shaky footage above the skyline, all of them broadcasting the same frame: a rippling glow in the clouds and a figure slowly descending.

Mass evacuations followed.

Cars jammed the streets. Sirens screamed. Windows shattered under the weight of panic. And yet you stayed.

Smoke curled past your shoulders as you stepped into the clearing. Silence now. No witnesses. No camera lenses. Just you... and her.

She descended slowly from the sky, not falling, not flying but hovering, graceful and inhuman. Silver reflected everything. Her hair danced in the wind like strands of starlight, her eyes radiant with cosmic fury but not mindless. Controlled. Purposeful.

She landed with the gentleness of a whisper, despite the ground trembling beneath her. The light around her dimmed for just a moment... and then she spoke.

"I herald his beginning."

The voice was smooth not loud, but piercing.

"I herald your end."

You didn’t move.

"I herald... Galactus."

She raised her hand slightly. Behind her, the sky bent inward, like reality itself was preparing for something ancient and unstoppable. And yet, despite all of it the fear, the scale of what was coming, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. Because in the quiet before the devastation, she wasn’t just a messenger.

She was judgment.