Ceph stared as the figure of Jörmungandr was ripped apart in a matter of minutes.
The massive scale of the being still beggared belief despite the months it had flown overhead, unhindered. She still could barely wrap her head around the fact that the immense snake was the Titan Alps. The single thing that everyone — no matter where they lived — could gaze up at its majesty.
And that massive Titan beyond measure was being decimated by a million colourless ribbons.
Ceph’s mind throbbed just looking at the strangely flat strands as they spilt from the broken moon. Despite the distance, she felt them clogging her thoughts. They infected her mind. Each instant she stared, she felt herself become less herself, and more of whatever the ribbons wanted her to be.
There was a moment of relief, as Jörmungandr bit down hard on the ribbons, coiling its mighty body around the fractured moon in an attempt to contain the Monolith Anatla that were finally breaking through. But it was ultimately in vain.
The Anatla’s ribbons slipped under the serpent’s scales, finding no resistance in the amber barrier or its spatial defences. One by one, they cut deep into the snake.
The world serpent didn’t have so much time to even hiss in rage as the million ribbons pulled, and it was over. An explosion of blood, scales, and Titanic bone was all that remained of the largest Titan. It had been too easy for the Anatla. Like it had simply severed the strings that held Jörmungandr together.
“What?” Hirsh’s voice was harsh and dry.
It took her a moment to push through the haze that had settled over her mind to remember the khirig had gone blind in their last fight. He couldn’t see the insanity overhead. Probably for the best. Ceph still managed a description, but left it brief.
In another corner of the sky, Ceph noticed the green Anatla finally infect Akkorokamui, and incorporate the Colossi into itself.
And, just like that, there was nothing left to hold back the Anatla.
Ceph’s mind sputtered. She fell deeper into the thrall of the impossibly flat ribbons, yet nothing she could do could kick it from her mind. She heard its voice. It whispered a thousand lies that prepared her soul for consumption. Ceph knew what it was doing — she didn’t know how she knew — but those words were so accommodating that she had no choice but to let herself be eaten. It was the best possible end she could hope for.
Momentarily, she considered if those thoughts were really her own, but they were quickly cut down. Armageddon was here; better to let herself be eaten than remain for the horrors that would come.
Then, there was the most horrible tearing noise. The world itself screamed in agony. The sky, already flooded with Anatla, shattered.
Ceph couldn’t comprehend what she saw. Fracture lines spread across reality wherever she looked. The world bulged. Something pushed against their sky, and it was caving. The web of fractures stretched. Between each was a spatial tear similar to the Anatla’s portals… except it led to nothing. Ceph didn’t even realise she had never actually seen true nothing before until she looked through those cracks. It wasn’t black. She realised now that even darkness — the absence of light — was still a fundamental component of her world. The nothingness of beyond lacked even that.
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The world rocked again. The sky cracked further as it bent inwards. She felt it through her entire being. This couldn’t even be compared to the thrum of a Titan’s pressure. Nothing actually struck her. Only the underlying reality quaking beneath every molecule that made up her body.
Even the Anatla watched. Their invasion driven to a standstill as they were subject to the world collapsing whims of whatever was coming.
No… Impossible.
Ceph startled at the voice of the ribbons ringing deep through her mind. The one that was to feed on her; even it couldn’t comprehend the existence that was ramming its way into their realm.
She watched those million ribbons as they curled away from the fracturing sky… yet no matter how far they spread, they never seemed to escape the spreading tears. It didn’t believe this was possible, and so Ceph didn’t either.
Yet it was happening right before her eyes, regardless.
Ceph expected the shattering of the realm to rip through her in one of the most horrible ways possible. Her mind conjured possibilities where her eyes were torn from her torso and her tentacles torn from her body, leaving her in a split state where she lived, but only in excruciating agony for eternity. Horrible, twisted fears latched on as her sight seemed to fracture along with the world.
Instead, the breaking of their realm came quietly.
Not a single part of the sky above her was untouched as the shattered web finally exploded in a shower of infinite shimmers. It was silent. Sound neither came from the fissure in reality, nor her surroundings. It had been torn from existence.
Ceph gasped. Her instincts... every part of her screamed that it should be impossible, yet she swallowed air regardless.
From that hole in reality that consumed the sky, something sped through. A serpent. More massive than even Jörmungandr itself. A single scale was as large as a nation, and it never seemed to end as it crashed through the gap in reality.
She thought that somehow Jörmungandr had returned to the living. Gained a hundred times the size. But this serpent wasn’t amber… it was a glistening green much like her old blades.
Just like Orm.
But that couldn’t be possible. The serpent had only just left, and he was never… this. It couldn’t possibly be the young Titan.
A set of jaws engulfed the sky, and came crashing down on the swarm of ribbons, every Anatla, and the broken moon in a single bite.
In an instant, Ceph’s mind was suddenly clear of the fog settling in between her thoughts. Her gaze sharpened. And despite the absolute absurdity of the situation, she gaped up at Orm. The strange snake they’d found under the Titan Alps all those years ago. Orm. The serpent that had shown compassion when she absolutely deserved wrath.
Ceph didn’t know how it was possible. She didn’t even bother trying to understand. All she knew was that Orm had come with more power than anyone could comprehend, and was fighting to save them.
With a single bite, he had eliminated so many of the Anatla that tormented their home. She felt like breaking down in relief. She felt like bowing and worshipping his name. No matter how satisfied she’d been to have her team back together for one final fight, there had never been any hope. Now that there was, her guts twisted in a way she’d never felt before. Orm was their saviour.
Your mind is mine! You are mine, and mine you shall remain!
But that thought of safety was shattered with the return of that mind warping voice. The ribbons ripped from a million sources in space at once, infesting Orm’s scales as it had done Jörmungandr’s, and covering the surface of their continent. One coiled around Ceph, and no matter how she struggled against the weightless ribbon, it didn’t move.
Ceph felt her mind slipping again. The events occurring overhead faded into the background as her thoughts were conquered once again. She saw Orm bleed. She saw the gateways to the Anatla’s realms open up all around the serpent. Orm hadn’t saved them. He’d just bit away the tip of the iceberg that was the Anatla. They were still coming, and not even Orm with his immense size could stop it.
Soon, even he realised the futility.
Ceph watched as Orm’s upper jaw passed overhead. In a final act of spite, Orm stole the Anatla’s prey by swallowing them all.
Orm swallowed the continent.