Creation Of All Things-Chapter 271: "Kneel."

The dust from Alexandria's battle hadn't even settled.

But something else stirred.

A deep, low hum rolled through the endless void as the bridge behind her twisted open like it had been ripped apart from the inside. Heat poured in. No—not just heat.

Breath.

Kael'Thar stepped through.

The Primordial Dragon.

His massive form scraped the edges of reality. Silver-black scales shimmered beneath his tattered cloak, each one etched with a rune older than language. His horns glowed faint gold, and his long tail dragged behind him like a comet of dying stars. Four glowing eyes flicked toward the shattered remains of the obelisk, then toward Alexandria, who said nothing.

He nodded once.

Then walked past her.

The sky above cracked open.

And a second obelisk dropped.

This one wasn't like the others.

It didn't rise from below. It descended—like it was falling from something higher. Its body was silver, not black. Its veins ran with green fire. And its surface wasn't covered in symbols—it was covered in mouths.

Hundreds.

Each mouth whispered something different. Some screamed. Some laughed. Some simply repeated Kael'Thar's name in voices not meant for mortal ears.

Kael'Thar stood still, watching it.

The obelisk pulsed.

From its center, a form tore itself free. It wasn't a shadow or a twin. It wasn't even humanoid. It was beast-like. Quadruped. Covered in molten bone and screaming flame. Its limbs twisted and snapped as it adjusted to this plane, reshaping itself. Its head was a mass of jaws.

A mimic.

A mimic of Kael'Thar's true form.

The dragon's eyes narrowed. A thin line of smoke curled from his nostrils.

He stepped forward.

The mimic dropped to all fours, claws sparking against the bridge, and lunged.

Kael'Thar didn't dodge. He met it.

Claws slammed into claws.

The force of impact split the bridge into rings. Wind howled in all directions. Their bodies slammed together like meteors colliding—bone against bone, scale against molten flesh.

The mimic opened its jaws, biting toward Kael'Thar's throat.

The dragon shifted.

His tail snapped up from below and coiled around the mimic's leg, then whipped it overhead and slammed it into the bridge hard enough to dent reality.

The mimic screeched and lashed out. Its claws tore open the space behind Kael'Thar, distorting time. He moved before it caught him, wings spreading wide in a violent snap. They weren't soft wings. They were made of pure pressure. Gravity wrapped in form.

He took off.

Sky cracked.

He rose fast—too fast for the mimic to follow. But it tried. It leapt after him, and Kael'Thar met it midair.

They clashed again.

This time, fire poured between them. The mimic breathed gold flame, and Kael'Thar answered with something worse.

He exhaled voidfire.

Black-blue in color. It didn't burn like normal flame—it devoured. The mimic's flame was consumed instantly, its body scorched. Screams came from the mouths across the obelisk as Kael'Thar's breath poured downward like a river of hunger.

The mimic fell.

Kael'Thar followed.

He landed on it mid-fall, driving it straight into the core of the bridge. Cracks spiderwebbed across the plane. Light bled upward. The mimic screeched in pain, reforming its limbs, adapting.

Kael'Thar stepped back.

And roared.

Not a beast's roar.

A command.

The roar had weight. Language. Meaning. Not for mortals—for the world itself.

"Kneel."

The mimic shuddered. Its limbs folded. Its body trembled.

But the obelisk pulsed.

The mimic rose again, its body warped further, evolving faster now. It stood taller. Grew a second head. Wings. Spikes across its back. Its flame turned green. Its breath grew heavy with rot.

Kael'Thar tilted his head.

Then rolled his shoulders once.

A sigil formed behind him. Massive. Dragon-shaped. Formless, but ancient. His eyes narrowed. His claws flexed. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

The mimic struck first.

Blades of bone erupted from its chest, shooting toward Kael'Thar.

He opened his palm.

Time paused for an instant.

Then reversed.

The bones pulled backward, slamming back into the mimic's chest—deeper this time.

Kael'Thar moved.

He blurred forward. Not fast. Not teleportation.

He simply moved in a straight line—and nothing could stop him.

His claws found the mimic's face and ripped.

Half of it tore off. The mimic screamed, spitting rotten stars and broken suns, but Kael'Thar didn't stop. His jaws opened and bit down on its shoulder.

With a twist, he tore the arm off.

The mimic responded in kind, stabbing Kael'Thar through the abdomen with a tail-blade of entropy.

He grunted—but didn't fall.

He grabbed the tail with one hand.

Snapped it in two.

His wings folded once—then exploded outward.

A shockwave tore across the bridge, sending the mimic skidding backwards. Its feet gouged the floor. Its bodies tried to reform.

Kael'Thar stood still.

Blood leaked from his side. Black. Burning.

He stared at the mimic.

Then lowered his head.

The air around him dimmed.

Then—

He uncoiled.

A beam of raw essence erupted from his chest—not fire, not magic. Just truth.

It hit the mimic dead-on.

Its bodies peeled apart.

Not just physically. Spiritually. Layer by layer. Time peeled off. Then its evolution. Then its memories. The mimic tried to run, but its legs were already gone.

Its scream split the bridge into two realities.

One where it fled.

One where it died.

Kael'Thar chose the latter.

He stepped forward into the dying world.

And slammed his fist into the mimic's exposed core.

It exploded—not in light, but gravity.

The mimic imploded.

The mouths across the obelisk shrieked—then turned silent one by one.

The obelisk shook violently.

Kael'Thar exhaled.

Raised one claw.

And brought it down.

Right into the center of the obelisk.

The world didn't crack.

It snapped.

The obelisk folded in on itself like paper burning in reverse. No light. No fire. Just… gone. The mouths vanished last—still whispering his name as they were erased.

Kael'Thar stood over the empty space.

Breathing.

Wounded.

Victorious.

Then he looked to the side—where Alexandria had once stood.

She was gone now.

But the path ahead remained.

Kael'Thar said nothing.

He turned.

And walked forward—into the void.

The echo of the broken obelisk lingered behind him like a scar that would never heal.

And still, he walked.