Rage,
Ruin stood knee deep in the lava that was in front of his kingâs throne, not bound by armor, a creature of the flame. Free and nothing but raw, angry power. A thousand years of pent up rage, thinking of every angry encounter shared with the enemies of this island, thinking of every enemy in general, it all helped to fuel his flame.
The lava began to bubble, the smoke billowing out in a thick black cloud, the dark, destructive magic that flowed through his veins roared to life. He slowly became one with the volcano, one with bubbling lava, his flame growing and expanding, his magic reaching deep into the earth.
With that final order from his king, Ruinâs magic shot upward in a devastating explosion. He took out the kingdomâs neighbor, Retail Row. He fired a blast at the ice kingâs iceberg, one would say he missed the castle, but no, he knew what he was doing. Then, in his final act of rage, he fired devastating blow after devastating blow down upon Tilted Towers.
His flames and dark magic were fueled by the destruction, by the suffering he caused upon these filthy islanders.
Good riddance and doom to them all...
