The impact was absolute. Authority so overwhelming erased all opposition…negating existence at fundamental levels that prevented resurrection or recovery.
The Living Necrocracy holding Xar'vantheon disintegrated. His body simply ceased, existence acknowledging that he no longer possessed permission to occupy space.
The rot spreading across the plaza reversed instantly. Corruption that had consumed stone and vegetation was extracted like poison from wound, leaving behind surfaces that gleamed as if newly created.
The obsidian energy filling the atmosphere was compressed and annihilated. Death itself was pushed back by concentrated Life.
Silence returned to the plaza. The only sounds were heavy breathing of survivors…Living Lives who'd witnessed horror beyond their experience, who'd felt their own existences beginning to collapse before salvation arrived.
But Mycelle's expression did not lighten. If anything, it became heavier…burdened by implications of the spy's final words.
