An age-old prophecy spoke of the world’s ultimate reckoning: when a singular celestial sovereign—unlike any who had ever graced the firmament—would descend to reclaim what was rightfully hers. Now, before his bloodied, broken form, the heavens themselves tore open.

"The prophecy is proven true.. Terra have mercy.."

He mutters weakly as she emerged, an ethereal silhouette wreathed in piercing light, each deliberate footfall echoing like distant thunder. Her presence radiated as if a divine being, casting long, quivering shadows across the shattered earth. Piercing eyes, alight with amused curiosity, swept the devastation at her feet—hunting, above all else, for the long-lost prize whose arrival had set this cataclysm in motion.

I ask of you, pitiful being. Where is the Oracle?