Breaking Point

The black eye hanging in the dissolving form of Evangeline's body pulsed once, then began to change. Darkness gathered around it like smoke being pulled into a vortex, condensing into massive, bat-like wings that unfurled with an ancient malevolence.

Each membrane stretched wider than a house, blocking what little light remained in the ruined domain. The darkness wasn't just absence of light—it was something alive, something hungry, something that had waited eons for this moment.

Kalin's presence rose above the carnage, those terrible wings beating slowly as it savored its handiwork. Each movement sent ripples through the air, distorting the very fabric of reality.

The eye swept across the field of broken bodies, drinking in the destruction with palpable satisfaction. Its gaze lingered on each fallen form, each shattered barrier, each final expression of defiance or terror. Then, like ink dispersing in water, everything faded to black.

"..."