The silence after Kira's surrender was absolute.

No battle noise. No distant screams. No sound except the faint crystalline ringing of reality continuing to reorganize itself around the Goddess's presence. Even the wind had stopped, as if atmosphere itself waited to see which way divine judgment would fall.

Azrael stood alone in the center of what had been New Portland. Around him, his fallen defenders knelt in various states of submission. Some wept. Some stared blankly ahead, transformed ...