Without warning, an axe cleaved down from the sky, instantly splitting the trespassing paragon in two.
The brutal display sent a shockwave of caution through the remaining combatants. They quickly learned to steer clear of marked sanctuaries, recognizing the lethal peril of angering the gods.
For the terrified mortals, it was a blinding light in an endless darkness. Witnessing the divine protection manifest in such a terrifying, absolute fashion, worship of the ascended gods swelled in unstoppable waves.
For Tyrion, the final descent into true horror did not come from the threat of wandering killers or the crushing pressure of hostile domains. It arrived the moment his towering construction finally stood complete before him, only for him to realize it was fundamentally flawed.
The foundation of the tower hummed with a raw, discordant energy, but its apex stood agonizingly unfinished and hollow.
