Anathema

The sky shattered.

The beginnings of the fiery wrath were cast down. In mere moments, the stronghold lay in ruin. The world was in peril.

They were all unaware of what they had awakened. They stood still in the face of its warpath and were inevitably punished for it.

But the young prince ran. He knew what they brought forth. He knew of the monstrosity that made its arrival. He knew.

He initiated the end to compliment his vanity. He wished to be its destroyer. He wished to become a hero, a legend. He wished to reign supreme over centuries to come by defeating the matriarch of the abyss. He wished.

He was the only one left who held the knowledge capable of bringing down the great beast. So he ran. He had to protect it. He took pride in his plans of single-handedly combating the gatekeeper of mortality and freeing the living.

The fool was the first person Anathema dealt with personally. With ferocious animosity, she delivered him to death's door herself.

Welcome to the end.