[The Peak Overlooking Ironhold]
The primordial sun ascended, casting a mournful purple radiance across the silent, slumbering city of Ironhold. Silence was the undisputed master of the landscape. Thousands of dwarves lay scattered throughout the streets, deep in dreams of glory, power, and gold, blissfully unaware that they would never draw breath in wakefulness again.
I sat perched on the jagged edge of a cliff, my gaze fixed on the crimson timer pulsing before my eyes.
[00:00:03] [00:00:02] [00:00:01] [00:00:00]
[System: Initiating "World Purge" Protocol.]
In that precise heartbeat, there was no grand explosion. Instead, there was a sound—a simple, sharp "Taq." It was a fragile, almost insignificant sound of snapping, like the cracking of an eggshell, echoing from the highest zenith of the cavernous stone ceiling that served as this world's sky. Then, the fissure began to spread. A massive, jagged crack, glowing with a blinding white intensity, raced across the black expanse of the overhead rock with the speed of a lightning strike, cleaving their "heaven" into two jagged halves.
The city jolted awake, startled by the invasive light.
"What is this?"
"Has the King finally opened the Gate?"
"Are we ascending to the surface?"
The dwarves began to cheer. They truly believed that King Gourath had succeeded in his mad quest. They raised their trembling hands toward the fractured sky, weeping tears of misplaced joy, convinced that salvation had arrived.
I watched their stupidity, a thin smile playing on my lips. "You aren't going up..." I whispered to the wind. "...They are coming down."
[The Invasion]
Suddenly, the ceiling did not just crack; it disintegrated. It wasn't merely stone that fell. It was Darkness. Millions—no, billions—of entities poured from the rift like a surging, ink-black tide. They were not humans, nor were they angels. They were living nightmares. Armored insects the size of manor houses, demons with tattered, leathery wings, and gelatinous horrors that dissolved flesh upon contact. The very roof of this world had been the "floor" for a realm of imprisoned monsters, and the Core had been the only lock holding them back.
"WHOOOOOOOOOSH!"
The black deluge slammed into the city. Within a single second, the cheers of the populace were transmuted into a collective symphony of agonizing screams.
"Aaaaaaaagh!"
I watched as the monsters descended upon the banquet. I saw the small dwarf child—the same one who had struck me earlier—picked up by a massive, predatory avian beast. With a single snap of its beak, it tore the child in two right before his mother's eyes. I watched the mother shriek in a void of grief before she was trampled into a red paste beneath the armored feet of a passing behemoth. Drunken soldiers fumbled for their blades, but they could barely stand, let alone fight. It wasn't a battle. It was a massacre. Blood drowned the golden streets of Ironhold, and the city was consumed by fire and teeth within minutes.
I stood upon the peak, the scorching winds carrying the distinct, heavy scent of roasting flesh against my face. I felt no disgust. I felt no guilt. Instead, I felt a profound sense of pleasure. It was a cinematic masterpiece, and I was the only spectator in the front-row seats.
"Beautiful," I remarked, my voice audible over the chaos. "The color of blood suits this city much better than gold ever did."
[The King's Final Gaze]
I shifted my focus toward the Royal Palace. The structure was an inferno. Monsters burst through the windows and tore down the heavy doors. High upon the royal balcony... I found him.
King Gourath. He held no Core, and he held no sword. He was pinned against the wall. Three long, jagged bone spears—launched by flying entities—had impaled his bloated frame, anchoring him to the stone of his own balcony. He was hemorrhaging from every orifice. His stomach was ripped open, and his crown lay discarded in the cooling blood of his personal guard.
He was still alive, gasping for air with a wet, rattling sound. As he hung there, a literal ornament of his own failure, he lifted his head and looked toward the mountain. Given the distance, it was impossible for a normal being to see me. But in the final moments of death, vision becomes remarkably clear. His eyes locked onto mine.
I saw his gaze vividly through my [Sin Eyes: Blue]. It wasn't a look of fury. It was a look of "supplication." He was weeping. His lips moved, forming a single word I read with absolute clarity:
"Help... me."
He was begging for salvation from the "dog" he had once insulted. He was pleading with me to do something, anything, to halt this hellscape. I stared back at him with total, crystalline indifference. Then... I smiled. I raised my hand and gave him a small, mocking wave goodbye.
The King's eyes widened in a final, horrific realization. He understood. He finally knew that I was the one who had orchestrated this. I was the one who had opened the door. Before he could process the betrayal further, a massive winged horror landed on the balcony and clamped its jaws around the King's head.
"Crunch." Gourath's head vanished. His short, shameful reign had reached its end.
[The White Gate]
[System Alert: Underworld Destroyed.] [Hidden Quest: "Fall of the Tyrants" – Completed.] [Evaluation: Total Annihilation.]
A flash of pure, pristine white light erupted beside me on the mountain peak. A simple, white wooden door appeared, standing solitary amidst the ruin.
[The Gate is Open.]
I walked toward the door. I stood before it, my hand resting on the cool surface of the handle. I paused for one final heartbeat. I turned back to look at the world I had dismantled. The city had vanished beneath heaps of feasting monsters. The fires were devouring everything in their path. The sky continued to rain nightmares. The screams of the dwarves had faded, replaced by the wet, rhythmic sound of bones being gnawed.
It was a masterpiece of perdition. A painting I had sketched with my intellect and signed with my coldness.
"Bad world," I muttered, turning the handle. "...But the ending was enjoyable."
I pushed the white door open. The brilliant light engulfed me, the sounds of screaming vanished, the scent of blood evaporated, and gravity itself ceased to exist. I left behind a world in flames and stepped forward into the oncoming unknown.