The Monarch's final scream shattered the last ruins of Avernus into dust.
Stone, ash, and void-fire spiraled upward in a column that tore the night itself apart.
The shadow-wings collapsed inward, the abyssal ribs splintering as the emerald vines constricted tighter, until the entire monstrous frame was dragged into its own imploding core.
Then—silence.
No echo, no breath of wind. Just a hollow stillness where the city had been.
Rhys crashed down hard, Verdant Scholar still clenched in his grip, the blade's glow guttering to faint embers. His knees struck fractured cobblestone, his lungs burning like they'd been seared from the inside.
"...Is it… over?" His voice was little more than a rasp.
Bounce limped into view, his silver mane still faintly shimmering but his body trembling from torn muscles and burns. He gave a low, stubborn growl—half pain, half defiance.