Ulamog - Destroys a Plane

Nahiri drew her sword. Sorin took up a position on one side of her, Lian on the other, and they met the onrushing tide of flesh and madness.

Sorin waved his hand, and a dozen of the monstrosities withered into dust. Nahiri focused her will, and dozens more sank into the rocky ground. But there were more, always more, and the largest one out there was a vortex that tugged on everything—their bodies, their minds, even their magic. Nahiri could feel her mana spiraling away even as she gathered it.

The ground lurched. Nahiri's hair began to stand on end. The setting sun silhouetted the monster before them—no, more than the sun. Light, a terrible light, like nothing any world should ever see. A chasm opened, splitting Nahiri's wall, glowing with the same otherworldly light. Nahiri willed it shut, but nothing happened.

It wasn't a crack in the ground. It was a crack in the world.

The plane was coming apart.

"What is that?" yelled Lian. Her face was bloody, but she still stood, sword in hand.

"That," said Sorin, his voice oddly calm, "is the end."

The light grew unbearable. Faintly, as though from a great distance, the people they'd spent weeks safeguarding screamed, and stopped screaming, and were swept away. Nahiri felt her body rise upward as the earth itself began to unravel.

"Nahiri!" said Sorin. "It's over!"

Beside her, Sorin flashed away into nothingness. She grabbed for Lian's arm, but the girl was gone, snatched away by shadows in the light. The sword she had carried was still there, floating in the blinding air.

Silently cursing herself, Nahiri grabbed the sword and left the world behind.

THE LITHOMANCER