The tide came.
And she came to meet it.
Cepheid (@Jester) charged forth, the gravity of a dying star building up within her staff, spewing ectoplasm from the injuries she inflicted upon herself to call forth the sheer bounty of Dark Magic that laid within her. Only in absence of all, only in desperation and madness, could such taboo magics truly flourish. And beyond that, the Photoprophet could feel it. Another frenetic energy building up in her legs. Legs that she hadn't used the entire day, legs now bursting at the seams from the death-sprint she pushed herself towards! Through opulence she ran, a black hole as her bludgeon!
One step, airborne.
One swing, all-consuming.
A speck of black warped the form of the God-Searing Light. An all-encompassing effort. An incremental result. For black holes were not so mighty in the face of weapon meant to extinguish the immortal. And as Cepheid defied a force that surpassed sensation, she could see it all. Every bit of her bodied buried in light, consumed by light, extinguished by light. Hers was the candle, tossed into the Sun.
She was vapour before she was flame.
…
The tide remained unabated. The all-extinguishing force, reducing stonework to dust, erasing the opulence that had remained untouched up until now. Memorabilia and finery became shadows against the ground, and the roar of the maelstrom rang above all, destruction triumphing over civilization as it sought to sweep away the meteors fleeing from it!
A sacrifice had to be made to stall it. A sacrifice had to be made to protect all others.
A sacrifice? Nay. An effort.
Only fools offered their lives so cheaply. Heroes struggled to the end, up to the last iota of their consciousness, and @Nyancy was undoubtedly such a hero! Ocean waves converged upon the finely-honed edge of her sword, drawn from the very clouds in the sky. She was the Beastlord Champion, heir to the primordial might of that ancient berserker, and that might burned as fuel for her magic, water compressing to physics-defying levels. And when the tide came, the ocean answered, that lion-faced valiant driving a waterfall into that godless light.
Instantly, it vaporized, an explosion of steam scalding the skin off her body. She buckled against the agony, exposed nerves screaming out, but before the pain overrode her will, a squall pushed her back from behind, driving a tunnel through the steam. @Aerial, lacking all the capabilities of a warrior but possessing all the qualities of a hero, had answered with a spear blessed by storm, whipping up the ocean into ever-greater frenzy. The tides, the light, descended upon them despite all their efforts, and yet, their combined efforts stalled its advance, their souls unbreakable even as their bodies failed them.
For even as they turned into shadows, they became bulwarks, parting the tides so that those behind them felt only the kiss of heat against their flesh as the separated around them. Robbing them of air. Robbing them of sight.
But not robbing them of their lives.
…
The tide washed over all, even as those who chose to escape escaped beyond the limits of speed itself. Machines that they were, Magisteeds were nevertheless susceptible to the limitations that all things of the world were. When duress became too much to withstand, when they pushed on despite that, they were liable to break.
In @Madison Freebird's ears, it was the snapping of a twig, a forward lurch.
King Halo's body broke down, the aftershock of that all-effacing light toppling over the delicate house of cards they had maintained to keep every part of their body in running shape. Joints snapped, gears splintered, magitech sparked, and before their Core turned critical, they hurled their rider off. Shadows coalesced around the Sheriff, the last shreds of magic in her steed sending her ever forward.
Forward to @Schilva Flasch, to Twin Turbo Kai Ni.
There was no time for emotions, not even as the solitary explosion of King Halo reached her ears. She was without hesitation. She was possessed by only the desire to survive. And she grasped the blade-sharp frame of her ally's steed. Felt it slice into her bones, held on despite that. Held on because of that. For pain kept her awake, and pain reminded her that she lived still, even as all other senses were consumed by light!
Consumed for an eternity.
Consumed for an instant.
…
The light faded, and what remained of the squadron leapt off the Dragonshear, finally breaking line of sight with that mechanical sunflower. Riders without steeds. Steeds without riders. All exhausted, fatigued. Unbroken but bruised, driven to the brink but not off the edge. In the shadows of the Dragonship's wing, with Camp Hope so close, they caught their breath, tended to what wounds they could. @Cynna, healthy despite all else, scouted upwards, her Shadow Arts aiding her in the mission, and confirmed, at least, that while the cannon above the Ruined Palace was still there, still facing southwards, it remained inert as well, no longer gathering any more energy. The weapon had a range after all. This far away, it could neither draw energy from them, nor retaliate against them!
It was a cold comfort.
At this range, they had no hope of striking at it either. They had fought so hard to slay the trio of Emergency Response, and at the end of that, the Magia of the Dragonship simply revealed that they had yet another ace in their hand.
But it was better, perhaps, that they found out now, rather than when they marched to Vintergard en masse.
Slowly, they gathered themselves, for their return home. There was much to be reported. Of their losses. Impermanent for some. Permanent for others. @Jin knew this the most. Knew that Jester had been UI-locked. Knew that she had been converted once already, that it was on the whims of an incomprehensible machine-deity that she was remade rather than erased. Knew too, that one could not revive an individual if there was nothing left of them. Would he bear the message for Zelrius, or would he keep quiet? Was it better for a beautiful memory to persist, or a tragic end to be relayed?
Such thoughts were interrupted, however, by Event Horizon flinging him off.
The cosmic steed, space made substantial, trotted up to Aes and kicked that steed too, knocking @Valmont off. The bespectacled Magia tumbled upon the ground, and when he pushed himself up, he could see the galactic eyes of Event Horizon staring into his own.
Eyes, stars, blinking out. One by one by one, as that cosmic brilliance sloughed off the Magisteed's frame, exposing the Magicore Engine beneath. It pulsated with an unshaking dignity, a deathless resolve, and it...shone with an astral light. Space folded upon itself, amethyst light sparking as entropy invaded the universe that was Event Horizon.
A portal was made. A portal inside the Core.
And inside that laid the last mark of Cepheid's existence: a droplet of blue. Ectoplasm, viscous.
They had ran so far, so fast. But ten minutes had yet to elapse.
