"Hahaha… he's coming! The invader is heading this way!" a voice shrieked from the depths of the volcano, a sound of pure, unhinged madness.
"Nyxira, you bitch! You're going to be the death of the entire Cretaceous race! By fighting me here, you're just bleeding us both dry while that third party grows stronger! You will regret this, you wretched bitch! Even in death, I will drag the Cretaceous race down with me to serve as my funeral pyre! Hahaha… hehehe…"
The voice was a storm of hysteria and irrational fury. But beneath the rage, Nyxira heard something else: the sound of weeping. Of utter despair.
And that was exactly what she wanted to hear.
"Orric," she whispered to the fire and stone, her voice as cold as the void. "You will die. I will see it done, even if it costs me my own life."
***
The Third Layer of the Abyss.
War banners snapped in the unnatural winds. A vast, sprawling army stretched to the horizon, a tide of power that seemed ready to swallow the world.
