"Ground it," Lucifer commanded.
Elara did not hesitate. The Fallen Valkyrie launched herself off the cracked balcony. Her golden wings snapped open with a sharp, resonant crack, propelling her upward with the speed of a fired arrow.
She flew straight toward the jagged, closing rift in the bruised-purple sky.
Zerathis's Avatar, severed from its primary divine power source by Lucifer's cosmic beacon, was rapidly shrinking.
It was no longer a castle-sized limb threatening to crush the entire valley.
It had condensed into a towering, thirty-foot humanoid monstrosity of rotting flesh and fractured bone, completely trapped between the Divine Realm and the mortal plane.
The Avatar shrieked. It was a sound composed entirely of vibrating, necrotic magic, directed straight at Elara.
It swung a massive, sludge-covered fist at the approaching Valkyrie. The physical force behind the blow shattered the sound barrier.
Elara did not dodge.
