Urza - Reforms body around his eyes

The stones never touched. Lightning awoke between them. The glare was blinding. The heat was incinerating. The crystals, glimmering faintly when apart, were holocaustal together. Their effulgence filled every mirror. The light had nowhere to go. Each moment grew exponentially brighter. Each instant grew exponentially hotter.

Radiant tried to pull her hands apart, but the stones called to each other. They burned out her eyes.

“I’m the mad one!” she gasped.

Next moment, it did not matter. Angel flesh seared away. Angel bone exploded. Blood flash boiled. Innards puffed into black smoke that itself was bleached white and then dispersed altogether.

Radiant was gone. The lantern in darkness had burned herself out from within.

Someone else was there in her place. Someone hovered there, the embodiment of the stones, the creature created and sustained by them. It was the conflict between those stones—the world-shattering conflict of irreconcilable opposites that were even, so halves of a whole—that granted Urza life. It immolated his old flesh, and in the same flash, fitted him with a new body, a glorified body. It formed around the locus of his being. It formed around the stones that were his eyes.

And next moment, the core of heat and light could no longer be contained. Every mirror in the mile-high atrium shattered. Hunks of silvered glass flung outward and crashed into the grids and plates Gorig had said would save Radiant. They buckled out and flew away, insubstantial as paper. The blaze followed them. It arced through air. It filled the yellow and shrinking skies.

Urza gazed out through the blinding brilliance. He saw the explosion peel back the skin of Serra’s Palace. He saw it pulverize walls within. He watched as blast lines punched holes deep into the floating citadel. Shattered and crushed, the palace listed slowly. Streamers of force tore through its web of levitation spells. The place released an horrific moan and rolled over. The massive hand of gravity tightened its fingers around the thing and dragged it downward. It receded. A coiling sea of smoke trailed behind it. The broken hull soon seemed only the falling, spinning seed of a maple tree.

Then it struck the rising floor of the plane. Chaos swallowed it whole.

All around Urza, the edges of the blast were disappearing against the closing. Before the tide of destruction could sweep him under, Urza stepped from the dying realm.

***

Time Streams, Chapter 22