The gilded silver arrow sped through the air, seeming to break the eerie tension. It flew with immense power, slowing and shifting the world around it. Heavily enchanted, it soared through Armor Crest’s heart, dragon scales or not. Such a destructive weapon in one’s hands would allow them to conquer the world. Yet, the owner— Nyx — was biding her time, waiting for the moment she could take it all. But that day had not yet come, at least, in her eyes.
It impaled him, scarlet blood soaking his feathers. “I-” he gasped, “D-don’t regret it-t,” He choked, crimson speckles covering the ground. His mind was bent to its limit, his sanity crumbling and giving way to delirium. He heaved a final, crooked breath, blood trickling from his mouth. “No regrets…”
Nyx stared at his crumpled body. “We are done.” she said, without even a trace of emotion.
But, behind a lone granite pillar, stood Armor Crest, still alive invisible. Underneath his guise of illusion, he stroked a black-tinted orb. Cracks suddenly fractured it’s fragile, glistening surface. A horned snout punctured through the glossy exterior, smoking and steaming as it did so.
“Arise, my servants, to take my place once more.” he whispered to the newly hatched changeling. “For I have decieved them all.”