”Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” – William Shakespeare

Shinsou, dark eyes flickering between his once-beloved Philomel and the ground beneath her hooves, flinched as a ear-splitting roar erupted from the ground beneath her ferocious stomp. Despite his familiarity with the Faun’s geomancery, the anticipation of the magic did nothing to suppress the Telgradian’s awe of it. He grimaced as the resulting airburst from the spell violently thrusted a powerful tsunami of earth in the Telgradian’s direction, creasing the concrete of the road like fabric and popping the smooth Radasanthian cobbles a hundred at a time. Even with the power of his Danzetsu at his disposal, the Telgradian still had to react and Shinsou now had only a second to think about how to avoid having his body shredded by the earthly onslaught.

The only way was forwards, he quickly determined, into and up the wave.

His legs pumped as Shinsou tackled the crest of earth one quick stride at a time. He ran like a madman, the ground literally cracking beneath his feet, his lungs heaving for air as he dashed across the exploding stone. The coat about his rune-covered body billowed in the wind, and one hand held down Enpera to keep it from slipping from his grip. His thin black robes clung to his taut frame, travel-worn but clean; like a swift-running ghost. One final leap allowed him to reach a point only a second before the breaking crest of the wave of earth.

It was then he outstretched his palm and snapped open a glowing portal. He could only use his Rift Phase once, so he knew he had to make it count.

It was now or never.

As the wave of debris broke and cascaded across a torn-asunder Radasanth, the portal consumed the remnants of the transformed Telgradian and phased him out of the physical plane just before the earth took him. There, within the marble ether of the parallel plane, he stopped, gasping for breath as he took in the scene. Peering into the physical plane through the rift was like being underwater, but he could make out intricate details of the destruction. A nearby building close to the wall lay in ruins at the behest of Philomel’s earthquake. The overgrown alleyways that encompassed it were now so full of rubble that Shinsou could only barely pick out what had been there before, and only because he knew where to look.

He turned back to look at Philomel through the ether, finding the time to calm his lungs. It wouldn’t be long before she realized what had happened; her beautiful eyes were scanning the aftermath of the quake dutifully, almost tenaciously, trying to determine whether Shinsou had been devoured by the earth’s wake. He knew he didn’t have much time left in the “other world” before the portal back to Althanas closed for good, which would trap him indefinitely in non-space. Urgently, Shinsou studied the surroundings for a suitable re-entry point, somewhere where he could step back through the portal and land a surprise blow with Enpera to finish the fight. He didn’t want to kill her; it had to be a decisive but non-fatal blow. He belligerently urged the marble membrane to bend to his whim and, with careful regard for his surroundings, started to create a portal back to the physical plane.

It was then that the collective ignorance of the unusual star in the distance came to reap.

To this day, no-one was really sure whether the fire or the bellowing sound of the furies of hell came first, but what was universally accepted by those that survived was that the gods had decided to rain down Armageddon upon Radasanth; Brotherhood or not. As suddenly as the coming of flash floods, the sky was subjugated by an unholy deluge of numerous trails of smoke and fire; accompanied by the ungodly screams of superheated rock in re-entry. Several of the deadly projectiles pounded the exterior lands of Radasanth into a drab muddle, razing earthy fields that had been waiting for rice planting, pummeled the low-lying hills such as the ones that contained Whitevale, and flattened the ever-present Brotherhood and Assembly forces skirmishing outside of the Radasanthian walls. Those not caught up in the apocalyptic scene panicked; their confused voices querying the source of this terrible catastrophe from somewhere above their heads.

Such was the shock of the reality in front of him that Shinsou simply froze from within the ether, open mouthed and wide eyed as seemingly endless numbers of flaming debris rendered the sky asunder above him.

This isn’t strategic magic…No-one on the planet is this powerful! What in the seven hells is going on?!

Reverting from his Danzetsu state back to his regular form, Shinsou anxiously studied the skyline above the Radasanthian wall through his interdimensional viewscreen before locking his eyes on death itself. The largest of the smoldering projectiles barreled towards them with terrifying velocity, bellowing a furious sonic roar. For the first time in a long time, true fear gripped the Telgradian; although he was impervious to damage while in the parallel dimension, he was running out of time before his window of opportunity to leave closed. More worryingly, Philomel was right in the firing line. Shinsou’s emotions ravaged his mind; his hand already instinctively, and pointlessly, gripped the hilt of his sword as he screamed equally as pointlessly into the membrane’s ‘window’.

“PHI! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE, NOW!”

It was useless. Sound could not travel between the two worlds, and the Telgradian watched helplessly as two of the Gilded Quint walked meekly to be within Philomel’s wake, concentrating on keeping her safe; one stumbled tall and thin, pale with her exertions, whilst the other limped slightly on her right foot. As they stood ready by their princess’s side, the cart sized meteorite shard soared low overhead, its flaming trail indiscriminately setting the rooftops of nearby houses ablaze, before smashing into the center of the city with such force that the surrounding buildings failed and collapsed in on themselves. As powerful as the Faun and her Gilded Quint guard were, there was no way to stop the avalanche of deadly debris and, with a final collective cry, the ruins of a broken city entombed the object of Shinsou’s ire and his heart.

***

As the dust settled and the portal back to the world snapped shut behind him, the Telgradian’s consciousness returned with a start, and he almost leapt upright in his haste to re-establish his mind in the devastated world around him. Two minutes of carnage had changed everything; there was no longer a Brotherhood, an Assembly, a siege or a goal. There was no longer any heed paid by anyone to revolution or revenge. As he stumbled through the twisted wreckage of masonry, Shinsou’s mind wandered only to the human debris amongst the ruins of Radasanth. Staggering around the town, scattergun, were rubber legged men and women from both sides of the battle. Many of them were traumatized by the sudden deific strike, so much so that they simply stared at each other and into the sky in anticipation of a second biblical volley. A few of them had started to return to their senses, had taken off their colors and armor and had begun attending to the wounded indiscriminately, recognizing that their differences were absolutely immaterial in the face of such a catastrophe.

Philomel…

As if someone had thrown a cool glass of water into his face, the Telgradian suddenly remembered the Faun trapped below the rubble, and Storm Veritas lost somewhere within the city limits. Shinsou could still feel Storm’s energy, and thankfully it was moving away from the city at a rate of knots, but nothing for the dragon. Being linked as they were, the Telgradian expected Delath to turn up at any second to aid his mother, but Shinsou knew what not being able to sense the dragon meant; likely that the strike had taken the poor creature out, and therefore meaning that their best hope of shifting the debris now lay with him. Quickly, Shinsou loosened his coat and piled his belongings alongside him, before mustering every remaining ounce of strength left in his body.

“Hakai: Enpera Shinkotei…”

The incantation allowed him further strength, but so drained was the Telgradian’s stamina that it didn’t even give him access to his full power. He could feel the barely functioning magic ebb away at a much faster rate than he was used to, but he had no choice.

It would have to do.

“Philomel? I’m coming, if you can hear me, I’m coming.” His voice begged, still nursing wounded pride. The only thing he could think about now was her well-being. With his muscles augmented with the power of his Hakai, Shinsou channelled every drop of will into clearing the large debris pile. His charred and blistered hands fell to each jagged piece of stone and heaved the wreckage up chunk by chunk. Worrying moments passed as each granite slab moved without revealing anything living, before finally a large section of wall moved to reveal a weakly grasping hand. Shinsou’s golden eyes came back into focus, and he clutched tightly at it.

“…I’ve got you, Phi. I’ve got you. I’ll get you out, you’re going to be fine.” He finally managed to gasp, not at all convinced by his own optimism. The Brotherhood’s co-leader swung some more slabs over the side of the pile, digging further into the filthy heap of rubble. It was then that thoughts of their conflict crept in to the back of his mind. He could have lost her. He may have already lost her, and that thought made him feel only like retching. It took another long while before the rubble receded enough for a dirty, bloodied but conscious face to appear.

Philomel’s face.

Shinsou leaned close, his handsome features showing a mixture of regret and relief. He looked into her eyes, one hand held behind her neck to support her head, and leant his forehead onto hers.

“I’m here, Philomel. I’m here.”

As the survivors of the deadly disaster began to search for survivors around him, the Telgradian began to dig the Faun and her Gilded Quint out of the debris field that had once represented the homes of the very people he had come to rule. Surrounded by a new world that no-one had asked for, Shinsou Vaan Osiris pondered the irony of it all.