The tear in reality widened, and what emerged was neither angel nor demon.

A figure stepped through—humanoid but impossibly tall, wrapped in essence that flickered between light and shadow without settling on either. Their presence carried weight that made even Metatron's authority feel diminished. Ancient. Vast. Something that predated the division of realms.

"I am the Arbiter," the figure declared, their voice resonating across multiple frequencies. "Keeper of the spaces between realms. ...