Page 33 of World At War

“We did it,” I say, my voice filled with awe and wonder. “We defeated Oberon and his mind flayers, and now we can finally bring peace to our people.”

Chapter 22

Tiamat

The aftermathof the battle is a grim tableau, the air thick with the stench of blood and death. I stand amidst the carnage, my gaze sweeping over the lifeless bodies strewn across the chamber floor. Oberon lies at my feet, his once proud form now reduced to a broken and bloodied heap. Blood oozes from a gash on his forehead, pooling beneath him in a dark crimson puddle.

With a heavy heart, I kneel beside him, my gauntleted hand reaching out to feel for the faint pulse of life that still beats within his chest. The rhythmic thudding reverberates through my fingertips, a grim reminder of the man who once wielded such power and influence.

But there is no mercy to be found here, no redemption for a man who has caused so much suffering and pain. With a determined grimace, I raise my taloned hand and drive it downward, the sharp points of my gauntlet sinking into Oberon’s chest with a sickening squelch.

Blood spurts from the wound, coating my hand in a slick sheen of crimson as I dig deeper, my fingers curling around his still-beating heart. With a savage yank, I tear the organ free fromits moorings, the sound of rending flesh echoing through the chamber like a macabre symphony.

Oberon’s body convulses in its death throes, his eyes widening in a last gasp of agony before falling still. I watch impassively as his lifeless form slumps to the ground, his blood mingling with the crimson tide that stains the chamber floor.

Turning my attention to the two mind flayers, I move swiftly to dispatch them before they recover. The first one lies still, its tentacles thrashing wildly as I reach out with my taloned hand and sever its head with a swift stroke.

The creature’s eyes widen in terror as its lifeblood spills out onto the floor, its body twitching and spasming in its death throes. I turn to the second mind flayer, its feeble attempts to rise met with a swift and decisive end as I drive my taloned hand into its chest.

With a sickening squelch, I feel the warm rush of blood as my fingers close around its heart, the two-chambered organ quivering in my grasp. With a savage yank, I tear the heart free from its chest, the creature’s dying screams echo through the chamber.

Blood drips from my hands as I stand amidst the carnage, my chest heaving with exertion. The stench of death hangs heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the price that must be paid for victory.

But despite the horror and bloodshed that surround me, there is a sense of satisfaction that courses through my veins. For in this moment, I have triumphed over my greatest enemy, and justice has been served.

With a heavy heart and a sense of grim determination, I return to Oberon’s side, my talons glinting in the dim light of the chamber. The metallic scrape of my gauntleted hand against the stone floor reverberates through the chamber as I kneel beside him, my eyes fixed on his lifeless form.

Raising my taloned hand, I move with practiced precision, severing his head from his shoulders with a swift and decisive stroke. Blood spurts from the wound, painting the floor in dark, crimson arcs as I hold his severed head aloft, his lavender eyes staring back at me with a vacant, lifeless gaze.

For a moment, I find myself lost in those eyes, memories of happier times flooding my mind. Oberon was once a friend to my family, a trusted ally who stood by our side in times of need. But now, as I gaze upon his lifeless form, I realize the true extent of his deception.

He had helped us, protected us, all the while manipulating us for his own selfish ends. Hundreds of years of genetic manipulation, all to create me—the ultimate weapon in his quest for power and control. And yet, he never expected that his creation would one day turn against him, defying his will and seeking justice for the countless lives he had destroyed.

With a heavy sigh, I release his severed head, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud. The weight of my actions hangs heavy upon me, a burden that I will carry with me for the rest of my days.

Turning to my grandfather, I see the sadness reflected in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the tragedy that has unfolded before us. Nikita approaches, her dark Nephilim form towering over us as she surveys the scene with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

“We did what had to be done,” my grandfather says, his voice low and gruff with emotion. “Oberon’s reign of terror is over, and justice has been served.”

I nod in silent agreement, though the words offer little solace in the bloodshed's face and the violence that surrounds us. Despite that, there is a sense of closure—a finality to this chapter of our lives that fills me with a strange sense of relief.

As we stand amidst the wreckage of Oberon’s castle, I can’t help but feel a pang of longing for the comfort and safety of home. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my family, too long since I’ve held my mates and hatchlings in my arms.

But soon, I tell myself, soon we will return home, and I will be reunited with the ones I love. And as we make our way out of the castle and into the cool night air, I can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within me—a hope for a brighter future, free from the shadows of the past.

As Nikita finishes her survey of the scene, her dark Nephilim form towering over us, I can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. The weight of our mission, the burden of confronting Oberon and putting an end to his reign of terror, is finally beginning to lift from my shoulders.

Her question hangs in the air like a promise of salvation, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that surrounds us. “Are you ready to go home?” Nikita’s voice is calm and reassuring, her smile a balm to my weary soul.

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepare to leave this place of death and destruction behind. With a flick of her wrist, Nikita tears open a portal back to the castle in the BronzeDragon Court, the shimmering energy crackling in the air like lightning.

Nicodeamus moves forward, his form disappearing into the swirling vortex of magic before me. I watch him go, a flicker of apprehension dancing in the depths of my soul. This journey has taken its toll on all of us, leaving scars both seen and unseen.

With a steadying breath, I step forward, my boots sinking into the soft earth as I make my way through the portal. The transition is swift, a whirlwind of colors and sensations that leave me feeling disoriented and dizzy.

But as I emerge on the other side, I am greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of home. My parents and mates rush towards me, their faces filled with relief and joy as they envelop me in a flurry of hugs and kisses.

Draven and Knox take turns embracing me, their arms strong and comforting as they hold me close. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I bury my face in their chests, inhaling the familiar scents of home—the scent of leather and sweat, of earth and fire.