The Hollow Core was filled with a beautiful, glowing white nebula.
Nihilanth was dead. The Primordial World-Eater had been completely vaporized from the inside out, its massive, dark-matter body reduced to a drifting cloud of pure, shimmering astral energy.
"I don't see them," Celeste whispered over the comms rune. The High Ranger stood in the lower deployment bay of Zephyria, her scarred face pale as she stared out into the glittering dust. "The blast... it was absolute."
Isolde roared, a sound of profound, draconic grief that shook the floating city.
The colossal Crystalline White Dragon dove from the battlements, plunging recklessly into the glowing astral nebula.
The Winter Sovereign didn't care about the residual, volatile magic. She frantically searched the empty void, her massive white eyes scanning for any trace of the Warlord's dark armor or the golden light of the Valkyrie.
She found nothing.
