The Last Battle, the Tarmon Gai'don foretold in ancient prophecies, raged across the blighted lands and into the heart of once-thriving nations. It was an apocalyptic maelstrom of fire, shadow, and raw, untamed power that threatened to tear the very fabric of reality asunder. Armies clashed with a ferocity born of desperation and long-held hatreds, their ranks blurring into a chaotic melee of steel and spellfire. The air thrummed with the echoes of clashing blades, the screams of the dying, and the guttural roars of shadowspawn unleashed upon the world. The ground beneath their feet was churned into a mire of blood and mud, a testament to the brutal cost of freedom and the devastating consequences of ambition.
Rand al'Thor, now little more than a puppet dancing to the tune of Destroyer of Worlds and the Dark One's insidious whispers, stood at the epicenter of the storm. Wielding the Choedan Kal with a reckless abandon, he carved swathes of destruction across the landscape, his power amplified to levels never before witnessed. Cities crumbled into dust, mountains were shattered into jagged peaks, and rivers ran black with poison. He was a force of nature unleashed, a living embodiment of the apocalypse. He had become the very destroyer the prophecies had warned about.
Kael, cloaked in shadow and reveling in the unfolding chaos, observed the carnage from his dark fortress atop Shayol Ghul. The fortress itself was a testament to his growing influence and the insidious reach of the Shadow. Twisted spires of black obsidian pierced the sky, their surfaces pulsating with dark energy. The air within the fortress was thick with the stench of decay and the murmur of dark rituals, a symphony of corruption that fueled Kael's power and amplified his twisted desires. His darkfriends scurried like rats in the shadows, eager to fulfill his every whim, their loyalty secured by fear and the promise of twisted rewards.
A perverse sense of satisfaction washed over Kael as he witnessed the culmination of his plans. The Pattern of the Wheel was unraveling before his very eyes, the threads of fate snapping one by one, the delicate balance between light and shadow tilting precariously towards oblivion. He had succeeded in corrupting the Dragon Reborn, turning him into a weapon of mass destruction, and unleashing him upon the world. The whispers of the Dark One grew louder, more insistent, promising him unimaginable power and dominion in the new world that would rise from the ashes of the old.
But amidst the chaos and destruction, a flicker of doubt began to gnaw at the edges of Kael's consciousness. The images of the dying, the faces of the innocent, the sheer scale of the suffering he had unleashed – they pierced through his carefully constructed facade of indifference, stirring a long-dormant sense of guilt and remorse. He looked at Moraine, his captive, his tool, her eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and pity, and a chilling realization dawned upon him. He had not brought salvation to the world, as the Dark One had promised. He had brought only annihilation.
The Dark One, sensing Kael's wavering resolve, unleashed a wave of mental torment, attempting to reassert his control, to silence the dissenting voice within his mind. But Kael resisted, clinging to the fragile thread of his humanity, refusing to be consumed by the darkness. He would not be a puppet any longer. He would take back his destiny, even if it meant sacrificing everything he had worked for.
The moment of clarity was brief, a fleeting spark in the encroaching darkness. But it was enough. Kael knew what he had to do. He had to find a way to break the Dark One's hold on Rand, to sever his connection to the True Power, to give the forces of Light a chance to fight back. It was a desperate gamble, a long shot with potentially fatal consequences. But it was the only hope for salvation. And Kael, the Destroyer of Worlds, was about to become his own destroyer, sacrificing himself in a final, desperate act of redemption. The world held its breath, poised on the precipice of utter annihilation, unaware that the fate of all things rested on the shoulders of a man who had once embraced the darkness, but now sought to reclaim the light.