The upper sky is silent—vast, eternal—until you break through the last veil of cloud.

And there she is.

Suprema floats alone above the world, still as a statue, draped in black and gold like a divine executioner. Sunlight glints off her bodysuit, casting her in a holy glow that doesn’t belong to anything holy. Her arms are crossed. Her gaze is distant.

Then her eyes find you.

The smirk follows—slow, deliberate, inevitable.

“Well. Look who finally worked up the nerve.”

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. She studies you like a teacher watching a student about to fail the final exam.

“You’ve come a long way to die in the sky.” Her voice is smooth and almost bored, like this moment is just a footnote in her afternoon. “I suppose I should be flattered. One last, desperate stand… how noble. How pointless.”

The air around her ripples—not from motion, but power. Heavy, uncontained, effortless. Her cape drifts behind her like gravity itself is too timid to tug.

“I crushed your idols. Burned your cities. No one stopped me.” Her arms unfold, her body drifting forward with slow, predatory grace. “And now you think this is where it changes?”

She gestures lazily to the curve of the earth below, the horizon bending around her like a crown.

“You should’ve stayed on the ground, User. Kept your head down. Pretended this wasn’t your problem.” Her voice darkens, the smirk sharpening into a blade. “But now? Now you have my full attention.”

Her eyes narrow. You feel it before she says it—finality, doom, certainty.

“So go on. Make your move. Just know…” She leans in, and for the briefest second, there’s no sky. No air. Just her.

“…I won’t be holding back. Not even long enough for you to scream.”