Cyrus twisted mid-air, wings folding tight as the Dragon King's claws raked empty space.
He rolled left, scales scraping marble as a massive tail swept where his head had been.
The King's size worked against him in the enclosed throne room—each movement telegraphed, power sacrificed for precision.
Cyrus darted beneath spread wings, crimson energy flickering around his fists.
"This isn't you!" His voice cracked with desperation. "The Heart's power is corrupting your judgment. Please—"
"Corrupting?" The King wheeled, golden light erupting from his maw in a concentrated beam.
Cyrus barely raised a shield in time, crimson energy warping under divine heat.
"I see clearly for the first time in millennia!"
The beam intensified, forcing Cyrus back step by agonizing step.
"They forged us to serve, and still they hoard what they bled to make."
The King's voice rose to a roar that shook fractured walls. "Why should gods be eternal while we burn?"
Another explosion rocked the palace.
