Ficticious Chaos
patreon
Chapter 30: The Undying Storm
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 21:43:57 +0000 UTCThe Dragon King’s powerful frame dipped in and out of the storm clouds, bursts of lightning illuminating the sky for miles to come. Black clouds swirled and churned under her primordial might.
Far below, Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri's peerages looked on towards the blanketed heavens as the ancient dragon danced amidst the gale.
Kokabiel’s lips peeled back in a sneer, his mien one of focused anger. “I will not be denied! Not by my wayward siblings! Not by children sitting on Lucifer's throne! And certainly not by you, Whore of Babylon! Crawl back to your whelp of a master!”
His voice echoing over the valley of Kuoh, the Fallen Cadre raised the Slaying Spear above his head. “My brothers! My sisters! Let nothing stop us as we stand on the cusp of victory! For Father! For Hope!”
HOPE!
The mighty spear pointed at Tiamat. “Forth, Fallen!”
And with nothing but the rumbling of thunder behind their wings, ten thousand strong charged against the primeval dragon. Ten thousand Fallen with swords and spears of corrupted light hewed themselves against the most powerful of the Dragon Kings.
Tiamat answered their challenge with a ferocious and thunderous roar. And she surged forward with immense power. Like a colossal bolt of lightning, she streaked across the sky, drowning the world in her furious radiance.
After long centuries of languishing in the Underworld, her dragon blood boiled once more at the taste of war. How long had it been since she last felt the thrill of facing down armies single handedly?
Ah.
The carnage.
The brutality.
The sheer savagery of it all.
Ancient wisdom receded as the feral instincts of wyrm-kind flooded her mind, filling her with wrath and bloodthirst.
She let lose another raging roar as she met the first wave of Fallen. Their spears and swords shattered against her sapphire scales, harder than any diamond or enchanted steel. Each broken weapon was answered with an unleashed web of lightning, arcing from body to body, turning dozens to cinders in an instant.
She moved as fast as lightning through the angelic mass. A single swipe of her claws tearing through the flesh and feathers of a hundred soldiers. Their shields and armor torn and rendered as she snapped her jaws through them.
“I am the Chaos Karma,” she roared savagely as the scales of her underbelly and throat radiated a bright blue, “and I shall color this Earth with your ash!”
Tiamat arched her neck back, her throat blazing like a forge. Then, with a brutal bellow, she unleashed a torrent of dragon fire - a blue inferno that roared like a living thing, devouring hundreds in its searing embrace. The air wavered with blistering heat as wings and flesh alike turned to ash.
She twisted her long neck round, surrounding herself in a cocoon of raging fire and burnt Fallen plummeting towards the ground below. And she surged forward, breaking through her own fire like a raging titan, emerging into Kokabiel’s host mantled in thunder and flame.
Tiamat's blaze-wreathed form twisted and coiled through the Fallen's ranks, her massive wings sending hurricanes of wind crashing through their formations. Spears of corrupted light rained upon her from all sides, but they smashed harmlessly against her sapphire hide, their holy energy fizzling out in dying embers against an ocean of endless draconic might.
However, of those spears that were hurtled from afar, some were pushed away by the violent winds and landed far below into the human dwellings. Tiamat narrowed her serpentine eyes as she immediately felt hundreds of human lives snuffed out as the fallen spears exploded on the Earth. Through the haze of battle, she recalled the need to spare as many humans as needed.
Vexed and angry, she seized one of the close-by Fallen in a single claw, his gold and black armor gleaming even as he screamed in outrage. With a bone-snapping crunch, she crushed him like dry leaves, his blood spraying in a crimson arc as she flung his mangled corpse into his comrades. They barely had time to react before her tail scythed through the air, exploding dozens, like insects beneath its colossal weight.
Lightning surged from her body once more, jagged bolts crackling and dancing across the battlefield. The heavens answered her call, and the storm above roared in kind - great arcs of primordial-blue electricity lanced down, striking the battlefield with cataclysmic force. The very air hummed with charged energy, and any Fallen who dared to fly too close were instantly reduced to charred husks, their blackened wings crumbling to dust.
Tiamat exhaled sharply, her glowing throat filling with draconic flame once again. But before she could unleash another inferno, a barrage of searing white lances hurtled toward her from above, far more potent than the others. The blasts struck her wing joints, momentarily pushing her back with their sheer force.
The primordial dragon cast a baleful glare upwards and beheld three hundred Fallen, each with six wings or more. She spun upward like a twister, her wings carving through the lesser Fallen like blades. The currents of air under her wings pushed her level to the heights of the more powerful Fallen, seasoned captains of war each of them.
“We survived the Great War,” one of their number yelled over the peals of thunder. “We survived the Outrage of the Scaled Emperors! We shall survive you all the same!”
“We will sink your bones into the very waves that bore you into this world, Old One!”
She let out a vicious growl, “Your strivings are insignificant. Let your deaths be the same.”
Tiamat let loose a roar and raised a claw heavenward. The storm erupted a celestial blue, and a lone bolt of lightning fell into her hand, instantly forming a surging sword of eldritch electricity.
She bared her fangs viciously before swiping forward with the mystical blade. Light erupted, and a titanic tidal wave of lightning surged forth! In the blink of an eye, miles upon miles of the sky were covered in a sheet of dread lightning, pulsing and arcing in all directions.
Over a hundred elite Fallen were culled, but more still lived and they came against her in droves.
“Not enough!” An Eight-Winged Fallen summoned a massive spear several meters long and hurled it towards her. Tiamat charged one of her scaled claws with armored lightning and grabbed the hurtling weapon. The tainted light screamed and screeched against her scales, but her mythically hard claws dug into it and with a great roar, she broke it with brute strength.
The spear exploded with a tremendous concussive force and consumed her massive frame in a ball of unholy light. And as the explosion expanded into a radiant sphere of purple light a full mile in diameter, a horrid silence briefly befell the battlefield in the sky.
And then the storm above flashed bright, and a monstrous streak of lightning crashed against the unholy orb of corrupted power, searing through the violet light like cracks in an egg. And Tiamat erupted from its top with a sky-rendering roar.
Eyes burning blue in mythic might, she ripped at the sky with a claw, and in doing so the air twisted in on itself. A massive column of cloud and wind tore its way into existence. A gargantuan tornado brimming with draconic power that swept up a thousand Fallen and tore them limb from limb, staining the winds with their bones and blood.
The remnants of the sky-born army still pressed forward, undeterred by the carnage she had wrought. Tiamat sneered inwardly. The scent of their fear was palpable, yet they came still. Did they still cling to hope? Did they still believe in some ludicrous chance of victory?
They will taste death all the same.
A chorus of war cries broke through the howling winds as three Fallen lieutenants streaked toward her, each one wreathed in stained divine radiance. Eight-Winged, clad in conjured armor of blackened celestial gold, they moved with the precision of ancient warriors.
One, a towering brute wielding a hammer of condensed light, surged ahead of the others. His wings flared, his form a comet of searing white. "Foul wyrm! We end this now!" he bellowed, bringing his massive weapon down in an arc meant to shatter mountains.
Tiamat twisted, her massive form coiling in the air like a serpent. With a flick of her claw, she batted the hammer aside, sending its wielder reeling through the storm-wracked sky. Her tail lashed out in a blur, striking his ribs with the force of a meteor and impaling his heart. The Fallen screamed as bones shattered; she ruthlessly flung his body flung downward like a ragdoll.
The second lieutenant was already upon her. A female, sleek and armored in an intricate breastplate of unholy light, she wielded twin sabers that pulsed with divine energy. She dove toward Tiamat's throat, a blur of speed, her blades seeking in vain for a weak spot between her sapphire scales.
Tiamat snarled and let loose a thunderous roar: one not just of sound, but mystic power. The force of it distorted space itself, sending the lieutenant tumbling mid-flight. But the Fallen twisted, adjusting with incredible speed, and instead of retreating, she lunged again. Tiamat let loose a growl of frustration as the Fallen proved a modicum of ability.
The dragon retaliated with a snap of her fangs. The Fallen barely managed to roll away, one of her sabers catching in Tiamat’s teeth. The corrupted weapon cracked under the weight of her bite before shattering. But the Fallen lieutenant did not falter—her remaining blade found its mark, cutting a shallow, glowing line across Tiamat’s cheek.
A wound. An insignificant thing that was already mending, but a wound, nonetheless.
It ignited her fury.
Lightning surged across her body, crackling between her scales like a living storm. She seized the female lieutenant in her massive claw before she could escape, squeezing just enough to hear the satisfying crunch of armor breaking and flooding the little crow’s body with millions of volts of electricity. Satisfied with her captives’ screams, with a beat of her wings, she surged downward, dragging her foe with her.
The third lieutenant, a hooded figure wielding a spear of violet flame, descended in a blur of motion, stabbing toward Tiamat’s eye in a desperate bid to free his comrade.
She snorted in contempt. Paltry tricks.
Tiamat ripped the lieutenant in her claws in two halves and caught the oncoming spear with her teeth. Unholy fire seared her maw, but she bit down regardless, crushing the weapon into embers in her powerful jaws. Before her attacker could recoil, she bent her neck and spewed a concentrated blast of draconic lightning.
The air split apart with a deafening CRACK!
The hooded Fallen’s scream was drowned out by the roaring tempest as the blast engulfed him, reducing flesh and bone to nothingness. His charred remnants scattered in the howling winds.
Tiamat exhaled, steam rising from between her teeth. The legion was thinning. The lesser warriors were halved, the sky thick with smoke, and the air brimming with the stench of burnt feathers and blood.
And yet, in the distance, Kokabiel still hovered. Unflinching and unmoving. Though his expression bore a haughty hatred.
Tiamat curled her lips into a disdainful snarl.
She’d indulge herself long enough, and she could now sense one of her beloved’s little monstrosities down in the human town below. No doubt doing its best to limit the human fatalities.
There was no need to drag this out any longer.
The storm above churned with newfound fury as Tiamat halted in the air, her vast wings stretched far and casting a great shadow on the earth below. Her glowing eyes narrowed, the slit pupils contracting as she cast her gaze over the swarm of Fallen still surging toward her. Their weapons gleamed with tainted light, their war cries piercing through the howling winds. Yet, she did not move.
Instead, she inhaled.
The sky itself quaked as a deep, guttural growl rumbled from her throat, rising in intensity. The clouds above spiraled violently, drawn toward her as lightning crackled across her sapphire scales. Her chest swelled, a searing blue radiance pulsing beneath her armored hide. The glow intensified: first a shimmer, then a beacon, then a blazing star burning within her.
The battlefield fell into an eerie silence. Even the Fallen hesitated, their instincts screaming of impending doom.
And she unleashed it all!
A colossal beam of raw draconic power erupted from her maw, tearing straight into the heavens, splitting the sky apart. For a heartbeat, the world stood still: until the beam scattered at its apex and fell like a volcanic eruption!
A thousand smaller bolts rained down like judging wrath, each one finding its mark like a missile. Screams tore through the night as thousands of Fallen were gored through and instantly reduced to ash.
Though Tiamat ignored their death throes as she shut her jaws tight and set her eyes on the next prey.
Surrounded by burning corpses falling to the ground, her colossal form surged forward. The storm howled in her wake, answering the fury of the Dragon King as she closed in on the waiting Cadre.
Kokabiel sneered, his black eyes alight with unholy fervor. His grip tightened on the Slaying Spear, the weapon pulsing with holy energy. Around him, the remnants of his surviving elite held their ground, their weapons drawn, their expressions one of desperate zeal.
“Now, we end this,” Tiamat growled.
Kokabiel bared his teeth scornfully and lunged. The Slaying Spear streaked forward, aimed to pierce through her hide and bring her low.
With a thunderous clap, the two met.
The shockwave shattered the air, splitting clouds and disintegrating the surrounding Fallen from the burning power unleashed. Light and lightning clashed in a violent storm. The heavens set alight with the battle of titans.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“What the fuck?”
Kiba tore his eyes from the rent sky above, to a slowly recovering Issei supported to a sitting position by Asia. Inwardly he agreed with the Pawn’s bewildered sentiment before turning his attention back to the battle above.
“She broke the sky,” he muttered to himself.
Ten thousand Fallen had flooded the sky, filled with grief and anger and a maddened desire to destroy.
The Dragon King had answered in a cataclysmic display power.
A literal hurricane of draconic might. Tornadoes which were tearing their way over the mountains of the valley. Dragon fire that seared so bright that the town lit up as dazzling as the noon day. Thousands upon thousands of streaks of lightning and electricity ripping their way through the sky and deafening the world in an endless ringing of thunder.
Ten thousand Fallen had flooded the sky.
And the Dragon King slaughtered them like ants.
Issei weakly waved his arm as the ash of the Fallen fell like snow onto Kuoh. “How are we even supposed to compete with that?”
“Compete?” Koneko’s usual monotone had a trace of incredulity. And Kiba was inclined to agree with her. He did not wish to envision a future where they would be required to compete against the likes of a Dragon King. Much less Tiamat herself, the most powerful of them.
“Through lots and lots of training,” came their master’s voice. Though Kiba wondered if even she believed herself. He was never one to shy away from arduous training. Like any good Devil, he was committed fully to the pursuit of power.
And yet-
The Dragon King’s roar caused them to lose their footing, the very earth trembling from the sheer force of her rage. And as she finally clashed with the Fallen Lord, the entire sky lit up like a supernova from the raw power of their weapons.
-he could not imagine reaching such heights. Not ever.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to train for this,” Issei said absently, his attention rapt on the battle far above their heads.
“Says the one with the Longinus,” Akeno said from beside their master. “Still, I suppose this means we won’t be dying immediately. Silver lining and all that.”
Sona walked over to the two, followed by her Queen. Kiba noted the frown in the former’s eyes as she looked past his master and Akeno towards the gargantuan wolf with its golden eyes ardently on the two ancients warring in the sky.
At the same time, Kiba cast an appreciative glance at the soft and deceptively delicate looking fog surrounding them in a protective perimeter.
“If the rumors are to be believed, Tiamat is the currently the Lord Wrath’s familiar.” Sona’s eyes narrowed at their white-furred protector. “Which means…”
As she trailed off, everyone turned towards the wolf, understanding settling in.
“You think it’s part of Lord Ichigo’s peerage,” Tsubaki asked, her brows furrowed quizzically as she sized up the mysterious wolf.
“Apparently she’s more than just his familiar,” his master said wryly. All the girls immediately snapped their attention towards her.
“Wait, you’re saying they’re dating?” Akeno asked incredulously.
“How would you know?” Sona said with a hint of disbelief.
His master shrugged her shoulder, pushing red hair out of her eyes. “Grayfia-onee-sama told me a few days ago.”
“Oh my, dating your own familiar,” Akeno said mischievously as she put a hand to her mouth. “Do you think Lord Ichigo makes her call him master in bed?”
“Akeno!” Tsubaki exclaimed, scandalized. Her face a beet red.
“It’s a valid question, Tsubaki.”
His master rolled her eyes. “I dare you to ask her.”
“Pfft,” Akeno snorted. “No thanks, I’d rather not be eaten by the giant dragon.”
Kiba blinked twice at the incredulity of the conversation going on before him. “Is this really the time or place for gossip?”
“Oh hush, Yuuto.” Akeno waved dismissively at him.
“Celebrity gossip, best gossip” Koneko said as she brushed dirt off her tattered uniform.
“See,” Akeno said as she motioned to their lone Rook, “Koneko-chan gets it. Besides, is there anything else we can do in this situation aside from just watching helplessly? Because, you know, we are quite helpless in this situation.”
Escape? Try to send a message to the Underworld? Anything else, really. About to voice his objections, Kiba was cut off by Issei.
“Hang on, who’s this Ichigo person? And he’s dating that ridiculously powerful dragon up there? How? Why? Dragons don’t have oppai, what's the point?”
Everyone just looked at the boy in quiet amazement.
Akeno let out a sigh. “Your one-track mind is truly amazing, Issei.”
The boy beamed. “Thanks, Akeno-san!”
“That wasn’t-nevermind.” Akeno just shook her head in defeat.
“Issei-san! You can’t say things like that!” Asia exclaimed in embarrassment. “But uhm, I would also like to know who this Ichigo person is. Especially, if Miss Dragon and Mister Wolf were sent by him. I would very much like to thank him.”
“Lord Ichigo,” their master corrected automatically, “is one of the five ruling Satans, embodying the Sin of Wrath.”
Asia recoiled as she mouthed the word sin, her hands immediately clasped in prayer. Kiba tried to keep the amusement off his face, though the corners of his lips twitched.
“Supposedly, he’s a bit of a recluse and doesn’t openly involve himself in most of the politics of the Underworld. Honestly, outside of the Pillar Lords and the other Satans, he rarely meets with others. He’s also quite young, only a few years older than us.”
Issei blinked at her. “Wow, he’s a Satan and so young? Tha-”
The ground rocked once more, nearly sending them all tumbling. Three mountains in the distance crumbled to dust under the mythic energies unleashed from the clash of the Cadre and Dragon King.
The levity of the moment broke, and they were instantly brought back to the fact that the two ancient monsters were essentially tearing the world around them apart. A somberness filled them all.
Kiba looked past the battle and out to the valley. Trees were uprooted and giant boulders were torn from the earth and lifted into the air, only to be vaporized to dust by the sheer density of power being exuded. Buildings were flattened by cyclonic winds or left in cratered ruins from the exploding remnants of Fallen light.
“They’re going to destroy everything for miles,” he muttered quietly to himself. Though apparently not quiet enough.
“Wait,” Issei whispered, his eyes going wide before he yelled out in horror. “My parents!”
“They’re fine,” Sona reassured immediately. She then turned towards the human descended members of her own peerage. “As are your families too.”
“Sona and I had magical seals engraved on them for such emergencies,” his master explained kindly. “They’ve been teleported to a safehouse and will be slumbering until the magic wears off.”
“Thank you, Buchou!” Issei tried to rise to his feet to show his gratitude, but he was still too weak from Kokabiel’s torture, despite Asia’s healing.
She merely smiled in response. But it quickly became a frown as she crossed her arms and turned to the battle. The explosions of tainted light and vicious bursts of lighting that sundered the sky had fully captured her attention
“I’ve always known that the Cadre of the Grigori were incredibly powerful, but to think just one of them would be able to evenly match a Dragon King in strength.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and Kiba couldn’t help but frown at the image. His master’s distress made his own mind tremble.
He took a step to stand just behind his master on her left, as the loyal Knight he was. Her right side was, of course, reserved for Akeno. Keeping his gaze on the battle above, Kiba said, “Rhongomyniad’s power is unknown. Though, if the few, scant lines in the Arthurian legends about the King’s Spear bear any truth, then its might would easily rival the strongest of the Longinus Sacred Gears. Perhaps, even go beyond them.”
And even as he said the words, a thrum of power fell over them, and Kiba felt his eyes go wide.
Something ancient.
Something dominating.
Immediately, he fashioned a sword in each hand, protectively placing himself in front of his King. Akeno and Koneko responded similarly, closing ranks around their master in an instant. And the more magically attuned of Sona’s peerage did the same, surrounding their own King in defensive positions.
Kiba sharp eyes noted their enigmatic protector also react. The giant, white furred wolf turned its attention from the sky, and single golden eye peered from the side of its head and fell upon…Issei?
Issei’s left arm briefly illuminated as Boosted Gear came into being. The crimson gauntlet humming with power as the emerald gem on the back of his friend’s hand gave a faint glow.
“She is holding back.”
He couldn’t explain it, but the voice filling Kiba’s mind gave him the impression of the low rumblings of a volcano. Impossibly ancient. Immeasurably powerful. And lying dormant until having to unleash untold mass destruction.
Of everyone, only Issei did not seem affected. “Oh, hi Ddraig.”
Kiba’s breath hitched, and a collective shiver ran through all the assorted Devils. Even sweet, pure Asia took a hesitant step back from the boy she was so obviously crushing on. And why wouldn’t she?
The Welsh Emperor.
Even centuries after his sealing, the Lord of Domination’s shadow hung over the supernatural, the ghost of his past haunting so many worlds.
“She treads carefully, to not tear the veils of living and the dead.”
A tremor went up and down his spine as the Heavenly Dragon’s voice reverberated through his skull.
“Her prey struggles in vain. Its neck lies bare for her fangs. Bear witness.”
And as if they couldn’t resist, as if there was an enchantment in the terrible dragon’s voice, they all turned to the sky.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tiamat’s wings carved through the storm-wracked heavens, her sapphire scales gleaming as lightning arced across her massive form. Below her and beyond the human town, the battlefield lay in ruin, a charred wasteland of shattered earth and scattered angelic corpses. The storm she had summoned churned with unrelenting fury, the sky a writhing tempest of power.
Her serpentine eyes were locked onto the lone figure hovering amidst the storm’s heart.
The Fallen Cadre radiated unholy power, the light of his corrupted existence bleeding into the storm’s darkness. And yet, the true danger came not from the Ten-Winged Fallen himself. Rather, the impossible weapon in his hand. The Slaying Spear - Rhongomyniad. She knew of it, of course. Had felt reality itself groan in burden when the Heavenly Father and his Seraphs birthed the weapon into existence in those olden days. The sacred spear, once wielded by one of the grandest of Mortal Kings, glowed with a celestial radiance. Its form immaculate, its weight undeniable. It was a weapon meant to split reality itself, a relic of a war-torn world now long forgotten.
Tiamat did not underestimate it.
Nonetheless, it was not in her nature to cower from any challenge.
Drawing upon the boundless depths of her draconic might, she fashioned a weapon of her own.
The storm above shrieked in response, a singular bolt of white lightning splitting the heavens. It struck her outstretched claw, coalescing into a radiant spear of writhing, electric-blue energy. The air around it distorted, warping from the sheer force it contained. It was no mere imitation of the divine weapon Kokabiel wielded – the Undying Storm made manifest.
Without hesitation, she launched herself forward, the storm breaking apart in her wake.
Kokabiel reacted instantly, Rhongomyniad flashing as he met her charge. Their weapons collided in a blinding explosion of force, sending tremors through the sky itself. The impact scattered the lesser Fallen around them like insects caught in a hurricane, their forms obliterated by the sheer magnitude of the clash.
Tiamat struck again; her movements precise, relentless. Her spear carved through the air, seeking his flesh, but Kokabiel twisted out of reach with unnatural speed, countering with a brutal thrust of Rhongomyniad.
She swiftly avoided a killing blow.
Yet the sacred spear grazed her flank, its edge cutting through her scales like a blade through silk. A thin line of blood scattered into the storm, sizzling as it met the charged air. The pain was sharp but fleeting, a reminder that even her primeval scales were not impervious to such a glorious weapon.
But it was only pain. And she had known far worse.
Tiamat retaliated, spinning midair and raking a claw across the Fallen’s chest and drawing blood in return. Kokabiel grunted, flaring his wings to regain balance, but she gave him no reprieve. She followed with a downward strike, her spear crackling with draconic fury.
Again, Rhongomyniad rose to meet her, and again, the sky erupted in devastation, while the earth below sundered.
The battle raged in a blur of violence, their movements a storm within the storm. Each strike of Rhongomyniad left another shallow wound across her body, but Kokabiel fared no better. Wreathed in dragon-fire, her heat scorched his form, and the relentless weight of her blows drove him back, inch by inch.
Tiamat saw the shift in his expression, the creeping frustration, the growing desperation. And she understood all too well. A weapon of such majesty was not without its own mind. The King’s Spear did not answer the Fallen Lord’s call. It did not unleash its full might in his hands.
The Spear did not acknowledge him as its master.
And Kokabiel knew it.
Kokabiel snarled in rage. “I will not be denied! I will not be stopped! I shall rid this Earth, and all the filth that has polluted it!”
With a bellow, Kokabiel abandoned restraint. He hurled a Light Spear, but Tiamat swatted it aside with her tail, the weapon detonating uselessly in the sky. Kokabiel’s grip on Rhongomyniad tightened, and he lunged forward in a last, desperate attempt to turn the tide.
Tiamat did not yield.
She let the sacred spear come, twisting at the final moment so that the weapon only grazed her once more, cutting deep into her shoulder. Blood welled from the wound, but she ignored it, her focus absolute.
“Do you not see! Do you not care!” Kokabiel raged, as he was continuously pushed back. “Look what has become of this Earth! Look as humanity chokes in the miasma of its own folly! There is no future bereft of war and devastation for them! Better to end it all and start afresh! Under Father’s infinite wisdom!”
She paid no heed to the Fallen’s delusions, continuing her onslaught instead. The plain reality of this or any world is that to live is to strive. Life is not easy; it is not meant to be. Strife and struggle give meaning to the weight of choice. Without hurdles to overcome, there can only be stagnation. And stagnation will eventually lead to degradation. All things end. This is the iron law of creation. Everything that has a beginning has an ending. So build life beautifully, that when it finally ends, it might end so in the most magnificent manner.
“Disgusting wyrm!” A hint of desperate fear crept into Kokabiel’s voice. “You are no better than foul Ddraig! You dare to stand in the way of salvation! You dare to rid this world of any hope!”
At the mention of her age-old foe, at the comparison, Tiamat felt a deep seated-anger churn unbearably hot. Like a star ready to unleash it’s catastrophic might in one world-rending nova.
“Miserable son, drowning in your own despair. Thy father’s great gift was no weapon. Nay, but the lesson of compassion and mercy. Thy folly shall see you die with neither.”
Power surged within her core, an unfathomable force gathering in her throat. The world around her darkened, as if recoiling from what was about to come. The storm fell into a momentary hush, the wind ceasing, the thunder silent.
And the Cadre knew what was to come.
Kokabiel had no time to flee. Instead choosing to brand the Slaying Spear as his eyes went wide and he screamed out, “Rhogomyniad! Deliver me onto salvation! Heed my cry! Grant this world hope, as you were meant to!”
The power built and built, and within seconds Tiamat was wielding a burning, white star between her jaws.
“No! No!” Kokabiel shook the spear erratically. “Rhongomyniad! Oh, Spear of Finality! Why do you ignore me! Grant me your power! Why do you deny me salvation!”
And then, she unleashed hell.
A colossal torrent of destruction erupted from her maw, a beam of radiant energy so vast it consumed the sky itself. The sheer magnitude of the attack shattered the heavens, turning night into a blinding white brilliance.
“Nooo! Rhongomyniad! Rhongo-Father! Father please! FatheeerAAARRRGH!”
The beam engulfed him whole, swallowing his form in its wrath.
But it did not stop there.
The attack continued downward, striking the land with unending force. The earth trembled as an entire mountain range was consumed, peaks crumbling like sand under an apocalyptic tide. Over a dozen mountains, tall and immovable, were reduced to nothing but molten ruin, a burning scar upon the Earth.
When the light faded, silence followed.
Tiamat remained; her breath slow, steady. Blood dripped from her wounds, but she flew victorious.
Far below, where once stood a mighty range of mountains, only dragon-fire and ruin remained. And her sapphire eyes fell to a single prick of light amidst the devastation. The Spear of Finality stood erect and proud, sticking out of the earth and shining in all its glory, surrounded by naught but devastation.
