Elspeth - Godsend Re-Re-Forged

As she speaks, the bodies of the fallen Phyrexians lift and swarm around her. Pieces fly from their limp forms: shards of metal, shards of bone; blades and razors; teeth and tubes. Warp through weft, Norn weaves herself a hideous new suit of armor. "On all of the planes, there is only one eternal, untarnished truth: all will be one. Any who stand in the way of unity stand in the way of a perfect future."

Elspeth looks over her shoulder. The others are fleeing, and Nissa has broken off to stalk toward them. She can't afford to stay here and listen to Norn's grandstanding. Elspeth concentrates on her blade: the crackling, golden Godsend. This is only a facsimile of the real thing—but it's her facsimile. She knows it'll work for her. A little focus is all it takes to send a searing beam of light at Norn. Chunks of armor fall away, incinerated by the sword's purifying rays. A smoking pit rises from the praetor's shoulder.

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MARCH OF THE MACHINE | EPISODE 7: DIVINE INTERVENTION