From the fragments, a half-formed torso rosee, barely held together by wild magic and spite.
Its six eyes locked onto Draeven as it snarled, voice a grinding whisper of stone and hatred.
Draeven doesn't understand what he say but he could guess.
"If I die… you're coming with me!"
Draeven growled, struggling against the grip. Flames burst along his body, but the tendrils held firm, the mana within them refusing to burn.
Then—BOOM.
It detonated.
A blinding light swallowed everything.
The cavern quaked as the explosion erupted outward, vaporizing the remains of Earth's body in an instant.
A wave of raw energy scorched stone, liquified stalagmites, and sent shockwaves echoing down every tunnel.
When the dust settled, there was a crater. And at its centercharred, steaming, and half-buried beneath molten rubble stood Draeven.
His armor was in tatters, his skin cracked and , but he stood.
Still breathing.
Still grinning.
