At the end of his life, Storm would one day romanticize that this moment moved slowly, as it would be remembered as a touchstone moment upon which life would never be the same. His memory would distort the ensuing actions as a dramatic conclusion to a voyage of months, an epic showdown which would have been better serviced backset to trumpets and violins in concert, illustrating the magnificence as the world changed.

To those whose worlds have changed, there is never such luxury afforded.

You motherfucker!

With a pointed lack of poetry or panache, Storm Veritas manifested an energy from which he had never summoned before upon any landscape in all of Althanas. The brilliant Shinsou Vaan Osiris had anchored Arius Mephisto to the ground once and for all, and stood a foot back from the perspective of the electromancer, who had just scrambled to his feet. Extending both hands forward with hips square to the target, a torrent of electrical energy exploded from everywhere; his hands, chest, and perhaps his very soul.

The channel of spiraling, white hot energy wasn't artful or elegant, it was simply extreme devastation. In less than a blink, lightning exploded through the mighty villain, leaving barely a trace of humanity in its wake. Blood and flesh sprayed outwardly as if a large water balloon had been popped, indiscriminate of general direction or any sense of elegance. An ear-popping crack mirrored the blast, which knocked both Storm and Shinsou to the ground in spinning heaps.

Gods! Tell me I didn't fucking kill us all.

Veritas remained face down on the ground in dusty grasses of the cemetary as he slowly regained consciousness. The first thing to welcome him was the concussion; his head screaming at him from within, worse than any hangover he'd ever experienced. It was a few seconds before he could hear the wind softly whistle over him, a wonderful acquiescence from the droning buzz of white noise that portals had previously had burned his brain with. His back and legs burned as deep cuts screamed at him, and his body felt weak and arms ached as he slowly pressed his chest away from the soil.

"Your finesse is perfectly terrible, you know this?" A wonderful, welcoming tease came from behind him, as the aging magician slowly spun to a seat in browned soil. A heaping, smoking and thick pool of grisly brown stew smelled of death where Arius stood, with scattered bits of bone and flesh no larger than your thumb drizzled across the land. The pool burned his nostrils with unholy odors of hell-sent horrors, and Storm was satisfied that the problem of Arius Mephisto had been solved with absolute prejudiced.

"Shit, sorry. You okay?" Storm's ears buzzed with a soft ring as he tried to let his eyes focus on Vaan Osiris. The Telgradian's clothes were mottled with what could only be described as gore; a mix of blood, flesh, earth and singed clothing. A distinct fingertip-sized chunk of bone had nestled into Shinsou's hair, which Veritas would later joke made for the world's manliest barrette.

"What? Fuck, I don't know. Yes, probably? Not sure; gods-damned ears."

Surveying the landscape, Storm observed a small channel of burned grass behind the point of impact, like a great ball of fire had rolled over the area. A large statue of stone had been shattered and toppled some fifty feet behind it all. He smiled a bit; that bastard wouldn't need the monument anymore.

Wounds could be treated. Grass and graves would be restored. A great wrong had been righted; Arius Mephisto was no more.