The summit of the Feeding Station disintegrated in a roar of splintering quartz and groaning steel. As the floor gave way, Clevatess, Alicia, and Nelluru were plunged into a vertical abyss of white smoke and falling debris. The golden chain from the Dreadnought continued to retract, dragging the throne upward through the wreckage while the shockwave of heat turned the air into a shimmering, breathless vacuum.
Alicia's blue aura flared as she tried to find purchase against a plummeting slab of stone, her sword sparking as it scraped the walls. Nelluru screamed as she tumbled through the chaos, her lime-green energy flickering like a candle in a hurricane. They were falling toward the jagged foundations of the glacier, thousands of feet below.
In the center of the devastation, Clevatess remained as still as a statue in a storm. His raven-feather mantle did not flap wildly; instead, it expanded, the feathers lengthening and knitting together into a wide, obsidian canopy. The violet glow from his midnight-black tunic intensified, casting a cold, protective light over his falling companions.
Do not fight the air! Clevatess commanded, his voice cutting through the roar of the collapse. The air is your enemy only if you resist it.
He reached out, his fingers clawing into the empty space around him. He wasn't grabbing for stone or steel. He was grabbing for the very moisture in the atmosphere. The scalding rain produced by the Dreadnought's heat became his weapon. With a sharp tug, he froze the vapor mid-fall, creating a series of jagged, floating platforms of Absolute Zero ice that materialized beneath their feet.
Alicia slammed onto a platform, her boots skidding on the violet frost, while Clevatess caught Nelluru by the collar of her robes, swinging her onto a steady ledge. Above them, the Dreadnought loomed like a predatory moon, its massive shadow eclipsing the sky. The golden chain had finished its task, and the throne was now locked within the iron belly of the ship.
They aren't just taking the chair, Alicia gasped, wiping soot from her brow as she looked up at the glowing hull. They're taking the data stored within its runes.
Clevatess stood at the edge of his floating ice-shard, his eyes narrowed as the Dreadnought's engines began to hum with a frequency that shook the very foundations of the mountain. The vessel didn't turn to flee. Instead, the black iron plating along its sides began to slide open, revealing rows of thermal cannons that glowed with a sickening, concentrated orange light.
The King of the Night looked down at the wreckage of the station, then back up at the mechanical god in the sky. He had reclaimed the north, but the north was now being targeted for total erasure.
The Queen does not want a kingdom anymore, Clevatess whispered, his hand going to the silver brooch on his shoulder. She wants a funeral pyre.
The cannons reached their peak charge, the air around the muzzles distorting from the sheer intensity of the solar energy. Then, the sky went silent as the first volley was released.