Page 86 of Scorching the Alien Empire
It happens in an instant—the brilliant fire of a dying god sucked inward, consumed. The world around me bends and distorts, my body dragged forward by an unseen force, as though the void itself has opened a great wound in reality.
Then—the light dims.
Arawnoth stands before me, no longer an inferno, but smoldering coals. His molten glory diminished, stolen.
And the entity...
A sphere of blackest black. A thick ring of flame circles it, spinning like water circling a drain, feeding its endless hunger.
Sickness churns in my core. The unnaturalness of it all—an affront to the Gods, to nature itself.
A weariness spreads through me, a malaise of the soul. With every ember the entity devours, I weaken. My sight blurs. My thoughts unravel. The fury that once burned so fiercely fades.
But deep within the void, I see it—a single spark. A speck of light, fluttering inside the abyss.
What does it mean?
Before I can understand, Arawnoth draws breath again. The last of his fire, the final embers, swirl toward his lips.
His final attack. The death of a God.
“No, Arawnoth!” I roar, forcing every ounce of strength into my voice.
“ELIMINATION OF CREATION!”
The entity’s voice rises in triumph. The void trembles in anticipation, the feast of my God nearly complete.
Then—a whisper.
A soft caress brushes my cheek. A voice both distant and near.
“Babes, I’m here.”
The words echo through the blackness, breaking like dawn on the horizon.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”
My breath catches.
Princesa?
Is this my delusion? My final, dying thought—a comforting lie?
No.
A brilliant light flares above the abyss.
Not Arawnoth’s flames. Not the void’s stolen glow.
A silvery sun.
Framing a breathtaking figure—a Klendathian Goddess.
She descends, arms raised, chin lifted, flowing robes cascading in waves like liquid starlight. Her golden hair ripples in theinfernal winds, untouched by the chaos around her. She is perfection incarnate.
“DISRUPTION OF CHAOS!”
The void shrieks in warning.
