Gentrixaul's tail moved, a furious roar leaving his lips.
His irritation took shape in a violent whirlwind. But whereas the fury of any normal being might cause a damage on the scale of a body, Gentrixaul's bodily scale was that of a galaxy.
The reflexive fury of something enormous burned away at the crevices of reality, and the star system it passed through simply stopped existing in the span of a breath of time.
The first celestial bodies unravelled along the line his scales had traced, and the eleven planets that had been circling it for tens of billions of years followed after in a spray of molten rock and iron. The debris didn't settle, spraying and carrying the momentum of a God's rage across light years.
By the time it crossed into the galaxies bordering his own, it had spread thin. But thin to a planet meant little to a humanoid, and sparse to a star could nuke worlds.
