It was as if the planet had opened its eyes after a sleep so long it had forgotten that it had ever been awake. Each and every place on the globe was afire, or under water, or buried under the land it once sat upon. It was not destroyed as much as the foulness that had been living on it for so long had been excised with a cleaver instead of a scalpel. It did not care what would be destroyed for the planet was forever, held in the blessings of Danu, he would be remade a thousand times before the lights of existence went out forever. It was time, it had been hurting for so long and now it was time to make the pain stop.
Two hundred foot waves didn’t crash over the island of Hawaii as much as they enveloped it. The water crashed down with unimaginable force hundreds of times an hour. Anything built by the False Denizens was destroyed, or so very close to it as to be an assured thing. Those False ones left were cowering in abject terror in what they thought were secure locations. The great ships of man were being thrown into the air and crashing onto the land, destroying what they were there to protect with their steel and fake caring. Washed away were the trappings of the empty and useless souls. Wiped from this great place were the evil and crime, the filth and the rot. All that remained was the beauty of that which was once pure, and the dead that had been sacrificed to it.
Far to the north the entirety of Iceland was now covered in glorious red. The eruptions in the north had caused chain-reactions to every caldera, ice and snow evaporated and billions of tons of water were formed in an instant. Any hint of so-called civilization had been burnt to embers. Smoke rose tens of thousands of feet into the air, the sky blackening with the now ever-present ash-fall. The sound was constant of the earth erupting and taking back what had been stolen from it by these things that had dwelt upon it for so long. Lava poured into the water constantly, land being created and destroyed in an ever-present cycle that was magnificent to behold. The oceans bubbled with fire and steam and the ever-growing fire pulled south, pulled towards all that man loved and held dear. Soon would the world be purified by the eternal beauty of flame.
The middle of nowhere is what they called this island once. They had sent man there and even in the two visits there they managed to spoil this paradise. Now, as the winds blew over the tops of the trees at two hundred lies an hour, the land was calm, the water lapping gently at the shore, the soft white sand blindingly bright even as the darkness above it went racing in all directions, destined to destroy that which had destroyed it first. Okinawa, ironically an island noted for its centenarians, was the first to be hit. The first gust hit and tore the sky-scraping pieces of metal nearly off there bases and shattered tens of thousands of windows. The jets on the island were thrown about like a child having a temper tantrum, their full fuel tanks exploding as they hit the ground miles away, causing the entire island to go up in a near instant firestorm. The wind cared not for what it had done, moving faster than any train to destroy that which dared stand in its way.
Such a glorious wonder it was once. A canyon that cracked the earth a mile deep and was as beautiful as the face of the Goddess herself. The filth that lined its walls and canyon floors was a desecration, the chiseled marks where cuts were made for convenience to man showed like scars. Even as the earth began to shake, it paused a moment to take in the vast perfection of this grand canyon before the group twisted beneath it and rocks billions of years in a single place exploded from the walls and collapsed into the depths. Each and every wall, each and every cliff, all of them fell. The noise was beyond sound as the earth took back its beauty. One day, when the world was right again, it would be remade and the perfection would last for all of time. For now, after minutes, then hours of the earthquakes, the canyon was no more, just a valley a half mile deep in rubble and rock and the tears of a civilization that swore it would destroy all that made this a necessity.
Even as the world bent itself back into the shape it was supposed to be in, a silent and invisible monster walked on the streets of it.Whole cities dying in moments. The worst deaths imaginable laid out on streets all across the world. Men, Women, the Elderly and yes, even the babes of these creatures suffered. it did pain him, but it was a necessarily evil for the greatest good imaginable. The world had seen this before on smaller scales when balance had to be meted out. Black Death, Spanish Flu. It was the influence for Sarin and VX and all of the delightful death these things had learned to cast at one another from afar. Millions died with every passing hour, but only those that caused this, not the dogs and cats, the birds of the air or even the insects of the dirt. He would not hurt the blameless, just those who were responsible for this horror of a life this place had become.
Siobhan howled louder than the wind as she rode the darkness like a personal steed from her mountaintop. The wings screamed with her and the blades twisted in the darkness, slaughtering all who dared be in her path. Clad now in blood and gore and the raiment of darkness she crept with speed to wherever her eyes saw the filth and stink that had ruined the land. Some bowed before her and prayed, others dared tried to attack her, all were put down with impunity. Her yes glowed with the blood she was now covered in and craving ever more and the darkness seemed to grow, to glow as she fed it the horrors that were done to the weak and the worthless. She licked her perfect lips in the satisfaction of the moment and rode onward, the world slowly wrapping itself in her darkness like a babe would a blanket when the time had come for sleep.
Not all was chaos however…