In the sarcoid cathedral of the antigod, we endured his seismic wrath.
Thunderous peals of his fury buffeted us.
Who were we to defy his cosmic malignity?
He promised we would submit one way or another, as something crawled up my back and attached itself to my head.
I felt my will to resist being drained away, and fell to my knees as the entirety of our environment roared in triumph.
It assured me I would go now to dig up more of the prima materia that belonged to him.
I remembered the elemental dagger clutched in my fist, and threw it to the girl.
"Go," I croaked with my dying strength.
As darkness overwhelmed me, I heard indignant howls follow Nida as she fled.
I hoped she would cut her way out and find a way to reverse this cycle of destruction.
Creation deserves its rightful turn in the sun.