The island's surface buckled. Roads split open like veins, spewing dust and shards of white stone into the air. Towers leaned at unnatural angles, crumbling from their bases as the tremors grew stronger. The once-proud bridges connecting the city's tiers snapped one after another, their shattered remains falling into the bottomless Sky Below.
A low, groaning sound reverberated through the clouds.
One side — the one still chained to the neighboring isle — hung precariously, its massive links stretching taut. The other half, severed from the chains that once held it aloft, began to tilt.
The tilt became a fall.
The Ivory City's people screamed as gravity claimed them. Markets, temples, and palaces slid downward, entire districts cascading into the air like an avalanche of marble. Spires pierced the clouds below, vanishing into nothingness. For a fleeting instant, the sun's reflection caught the golden rooftops as they fell — a glittering storm of light and ruin.
The chained half of the island swung outward, pulled by the connected islands. The enormous metal links creaked, bending under strain as thick as mountains. With a thunderous crash, the chained mass swung wide, its momentum sending it careening into the neighboring isle.
The collision was apocalyptic.
Stone met stone with world-shattering force. The air itself detonated, sending shockwaves that flattened the remaining structures. Entire fortresses shattered into dust. The sound was deafening — a single, endless roar that drowned out thought.
From a distance, the Ivory City no longer looked divine. It looked wounded. A bleeding, fractured corpse of splendor and hubris.
The massive chain snapped, the recoil flinging fragments of the chain miles across the sky. One end struck another island, cleaving through its edge and sending entire cliff sections tumbling. The other end whipped through the clouds, carving through what remained of the Ivory City's outer walls.
Through the chaos, fragments of the once-pristine city drifted apart — grand towers turned into floating ruins, drifting like ghosts across the sky.
And still, the echoes of the crash reverberated, reaching even the distant isles that watched in horror.
The Ivory City — once a symbol of perfection and divine order — had been split, devoured by its own weight.
And far below, the falling half continued its descent, burning as it vanished into the Sky Below.
This was Destruction.
***
March ran through the devastation, her small feet pounding across the cracked ivory streets, past walls split by the weight of the sky itself. All around her, the world was collapsing — columns falling like dying trees, marble dust turning the air white. Yet she didn't stop. Her lungs screamed, her legs ached, but she clutched the Glass Knife tight against her chest and kept running.
Ahead of her loomed Sevirax, the Ivory Lord, a creature that once might have been beautiful. His enormous wings were torn and bleeding, membranes glistening like shards of shattered mirrors. His scales — smooth and white as porcelain — were now cracked, leaking molten blood that hissed when it touched the ground. The dragon was kneeling, a god brought low, his vast body sprawled across the remains of a ruined plaza.
The sound of his labored breaths rolled like thunder.
March could feel her heart hammering in her chest.
'He's still alive… barely…'
She skidded to a stop on a slope of broken marble, staring up at the behemoth that had once ruled the skies. The Glass Knife shimmered faintly in her hands, its transparent edge catching the glow of the burning city. Its power thrummed in her bones — this was no ordinary weapon. It was a thing of endings.
Her knuckles tightened.
'One cut. That's all it takes.'
The dragon's head turned slightly. Even wounded, Sevirax radiated divinity. His eyes were like molten suns, swirling with fury and disbelief. He had survived battles that tore apart armies, faced Saints and monsters alike. And now… there was a child standing before him, her clothes soaked in ash, her tiny hands gripping a blade meant to kill gods.
When Sevirax's gaze found her, March froze.
The world seemed to vanish beneath that golden glare.
Then the dragon roared.
The blast of sound threw her back, shattering the ground beneath her. March hit the pavement hard, her ears ringing.
He reared up, blood spilling from the hole in his chest where his heart should have been.
The ground quaked as he lunged forward.
March scrambled to her feet and ran. She leapt over the cracks, dodging falling rubble, her mind numb except for one thought — get close. She could see the wound where the dragon's chest had split open, the perfect place to strike the Glass Knife.
Then his shadow engulfed her.
A second later, she screamed.
Teeth the size of towers closed around her.
For a moment, everything was pain and darkness. The sound of flesh tearing, the crushing weight of his throat muscles dragging her down — it should have killed her instantly. But March refused to die.
Her blood ran cold as she made sure his did as well.
The dragon's insides shuddered as ice spread through him, creeping through veins and organs, reaching his heart.
March forced herself to move, crawling through the frozen tunnels of flesh. The Glass Knife still gleamed in her hand, untarnished by blood.
'Almost there… just a little more…'
She couldn't stab the blade in an area to durable to pierce. The air was gone. Her vision blurred. Her tiny fingers trembled. But she didn't stop.
With one final surge of strength, she plunged the knife into the wall of muscle beside her.
The blade sank deep.
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then came the sound of shattering glass, the knife in her hand crumpling to dust.
Then, Sevirax gagged. The temperature spiked as a searing hot light appeared before March, devouring her as she was coughed out of the Ivory Lord.
March, who had plunged the knife into the great dragon worshipped by the people of the Ivory City, was left in a burning heap as she writhed and screamed.
And the Ivory Lord, meanwhile, was becoming mortal again.
Now that his fate had been returned to him, the terrible wound on his neck and chest — among many others — were sapping him of life. A few seconds more, and it was going to kill him.
But no... not yet!
As a long, sorrowful cry of the great beast echoed across the burning city, Sevras stubbornly refused to die. Straining his battered body, he slowly crawled forward, desperately trying to reach the Ivory Tower.
Which he had sworn to protect.
Leaving a trail of blood behind, the beautiful white dragon torturously wrapped his body around the great pagoda and tiredly lowered his head to the ground in front of its gates. His eyes slowly closed.
It was his… his duty.
To protect it.
He was going to it, even in death.
He promised…
Laying on the soft grass in the middle of a burning inferno, the dragon let out a soft breath.
He imagined a different picture…
A picture of a beautiful white city, its streets bathing in gentle sunlight... full of happy and kind people... thriving, peaceful, and safe.
A few moments later, Sevras, the Blessed of the Sun, was dead.
***
Sunny, on the other hand, was appreciating the picture of the destroyed Ivory City, smiling upon his artwork. Three whole islands had been destroyed as a result of accidentally destroying one, creating a domino effect. Mordret was unable to prevent Sevirax, Sevras, or whatever the dragon was known as from dying.
And from where he stood, it seemed that March was getting the fire under control. She'd probably live until the end.
'Phew… V for victory!'
…Of course, now that he was a Dormant Beast, every kill — no matter the Rank — gave him a Shadow Fragment. And…
[Your shadow is overflowing.]
…That. His Monster Core was beginning to form again after being destroyed.
'The benefits of mass murder…'
Calling upon his trusty, yet horrific, steed, Nightmare rose from his shadow. Calling the surrounding darkness back to the Shadow Lantern, Sunny leaped onto the tenebrous horse's back, bracing for a world of pain as he galloped towards the Ivory Tower.