[Shaper and Eyes of Clarity are interacting at a deeper level.]

[Your authorities have reached outside their bounds.]

[Your authorities have grown.]

[Shaper and Eyes of Clarity have become intricately connected.]

[You have obtained the title: Shaper of Worlds]

Through the cracks on the surface of the Spire of Babylos leaked prismatic light, the same light that shot out into the heavens above. It was dripping like blood, as though the Spire itself was a living thing made of stone flesh. It tried to heal itself, to mend the cracks on its surface, but the authority of the Shaper of Worlds demanded its fall. For now, it could afford some resistance as Yulaiah had yet to truly ascend. His ascendant authority was not yet complete. And that was enough to make the damages reversible.

"Stop him!"

Cheyulah yelled at the top of his lungs as a dark purple haze surrounded his body, propelling him into the sky toward Yulaiah. Valerya as well brought out a crimson spear dripping in blood and flames as she began spinning it in her hands. With each spin, the spear seemed to grow longer and longer. It soon became apparent that it was no simple spear as it seemed more like a whip that could lash out at the sky. Both Cheyulah and Valerya aimed their attacks at Yulaiah, hoping to deter him from destroying the Spire of Babylos. But it was then that one of Yulaiah's eyes turned toward them.

"Cheyulah, Shade of Guevara... and Valerya, Shade of Tristana, have you forgotten what we are? Have you forgotten our vows?"

As he spoke, a pair of his wings flapped, releasing their crystalline feathers that melted into liquid light. They soon morphed into smaller versions of Yulaiah's ascendant form, matching the size of other humans. They blocked the dark purple haze and the spear of blood and flames from reaching Yulaiah as he continued.

"We are Alma. We are the spirits of our hollowed selves who had chosen to discard us and thrive in forgettance... in Oblivion! We are exiles!"

In a fit of anger, more light burst out from him, creating more clones that began swarming at the Cheyulah and Valerya. Each carried a different weapon and was infused with a different power. Some came like tempests, erupting with vicious lightning. Others were like pale flames, flitting in and out of sight amidst the light only to scorch their victims with the most ghastly wounds. Others yet moved unpredictably, flowing like water while striking with biting cold. Each also carried the vibration that caused even Yulaiah himself to nearly die from misuse.

This was Yulaiah at his current peak. The Six Steps of Finality was no longer necessary as he had now truly understood what it was that he was doing. It was a silly attempt at touching upon his own power sealed away with the rest of his identity that he had no desire to recall... until now. After all, what power could one wield if even one's own name was a lie? The Six Steps of Finality tell a story of a fleeting life disowned by one's self, sought acceptance in the arms of another.

"We are exiles, the Severed Shades of Oblivion left to rot in the endlessness of obsolescence! We were meant to vanish, to be extinguished from existence! And yet Lua kept us... in her embrace, with the promise of Eternity...."

Cheyulah was pushed back to the ground, fending for his life against the monstrous abominations spawned by Yulaiah's light. He was not really much of a fighter and generally used his head more than his fists, but in this situation, there was not much he could do. He had brought reinforcements, but they would do absolutely nothing against Yulaiah. He had clearly not expected things to become like this.

Valerya was in a similar predicament. Swinging her flaming spear around had allowed her to cut down Yulaiah's clones relatively easily compared to Cheyulah, but it mattered little when they seemed to come endlessly anyway. She was the second ranked among the Divines, known as the Divine Spear of Slaughter, she thrived in such battles. But this time, there was nothing she could do. Against someone wielding power that they had only been dreaming of until now, how could they win?

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This was a true slap to their faces, a total mockery of their very lives. They had committed a cardinal sin by betraying their world. They had been tyrannical toward their people, deciding their very fates on their own. All this in order to raise the entirety of their race through ascendancy. But standing against them once more was the one they swore to serve and follow, the one they had betrayed. And he had shown the mark that they had so desperately sought after. What is this if not an insult? Yulaiah, however, could not care any less as he continued gripping the threads tightly in his hands.

"Had she not done enough? Had she not sacrificed her very essence to keep us existing?! Must you rend her flesh and defile her soul?! You ask why I scorn you... vile creatures unworthy of grace, I am Rex no longer. Eternity spins as Eternity should! But the End shall come for you, know this true!"

Yulaiah opened his hands. Laying within them were the threads of the Spire of Babylos, weathered and strained under the pressure of his authority. But still, every moment he held them in his touch, he saw and heard them. The final agonising moments of paradise stretched infinitely, its cries resounding across time. Even now, long after its death, Lua still bleeds. But now, it was no longer just Lua. Corrin too was at the brink of death. Could he allow another world, another home to fall to this depraved ascendance?

"You have already slain Lua. To bring her back with the sacrifice of Corrin is the height of arrogance and hedonism. You are not gods. Let the worlds be at peace!"

With renewed might, Yulaiah slammed his palms together, clasping them tightly as though in prayer. The threads he held nearly snapped from the sheer brutality of his purpose as he focused singularly on destroying the Spire of Babylos. Eternity spins as Eternity should, yet it flows so fluidly that it slips from one's grasp at the slightest touch. Can one truly not change the flow of the Eternal River? Can the Loom not be made to alter the tapestry it had yet to weave? Yulaiah wanted to know desperately... even though he had already accepted the inevitable. Uriah remained, watching everything in his graven silence, waiting for the inevitable.

"Valerya, we need to wake the Regina Alma before the Spire is destroyed!"

In the middle of Yulaiah's thoughts, Cheyulah yelled out with urgency as he struggled to get past Yulaiah's army of clones. Valerya looked at Yulaiah with a conflicted gaze for a moment before rushing past his clones with a swing of her spear. She ran with haste, each step burning the area around her with bloody flames as she headed straight toward the most important part of their plan, Vivi.

Vivi had been stunned in both confusion and sorrow from the very beginning. All her life, she thought she knew her mother and her brother. She thought she understood herself and her place in the world quite well. But now, she was learning that everything had been a lie. Her mother looked like a stranger to her now. And her brother, she could not understand why, but her heart ached terribly from hearing his voice full of rage and shame.

Seeing Valerya running toward her, Vivi felt a mounting dread rise from the depths of her being. It was telling her to run, and so she did. She erupted with illusory flames that painted the surroundings in a tantalising gold that slowly melted into a verdant green as a field of grass overlapped with reality. Vivi had vanished, but it did not seem to deter Valerya as she continued rushing forward, her body wreathed in bloody flames threatened to burn the false from truth. But before she could get closer, Yulaiah's army of clones arrived once more, this time filled with a greater fury than before.

"You dare touch even her! Do you even understand why we chose not to wake?! Why we would rather fade into forgettance in this new world?!"

Yulaiah was truly furious. Even with all the power he had now, he still felt that it was not enough. He had to focus on trying to destroy the Spire of Babylos because if he let go even once, it would mend itself back to its peak and it would be nearly impossible for him to break it again. And this meant that his hands were tied. He could only spare his clones to protect Vivi, but with most of his authority being funneled into the threads, there was not much left for his clones to use. His seemingly boundless energy could only aid him so far, and in a battle with such great stakes, he was learning that there was no such thing as boundless. Fortunately, a voice came from below, resounding across the battlefield.

"Focus on destroying that thing, Finality. I will take care of take care of these invaders. Corrin will not go down without a fight!"

A burst of gravity pulled in everything in the surroundings, sealing them in a special domain created by one man alone. The strongest Divine stood at the centre like the final bastion of the world, ready to cleave his enemies flesh from bones. He raised his giant sword overhead, syphoning his power and limited authority over gravity as his blade shone with a terrifying light.

"I am the Retributive Knight Latonai, Protector of Corrin!"