Let the enemy tower higher than mountains, spread wider than seas.
Let the demons come by the billions, never-ending.
Let the gods rule these stars and claim all life in their names.
Orson would break every rule, cut down every lurking fiend.
Bellara stood stunned as the six Demon Gods and the swarming horde streamed past her, hurling themselves at that colossal, godlike silhouette.
He simply lifted his hand. A string of crystal orbs spilled away.
Space buckled. Tens of millions of demons were dragged into the lattice of orbs and shredded to cosmic dust in an instant. The Six were caught in the silent detonation, torn and blood-slick, limbs sheared away as they reeled.
Orson took one step and vaulted the sky, dropping onto the Broodmother's surface.
The horror was so immense he felt he had landed on a planet. No life, only a nauseating tide of pulsing energy. The crust was a mesh of knotted muscle and throbbing veins, twisted into a landscape out of nightmare.
