Devastation followed him sometimes.
The masked mage sat atop a hill, staring off into the distance. He slowly reached into his robe, digging around for a moment, before withdrawing an old, worn out pipe.
Bringing it to his lips, a flame lept from his hand to light it.
He took a long breathe, the first he’d taken in minutes, before slowly sighing, a thin cloud of ash escaping his pursed lips.
No smile graced his face as he watched the world around him coming to an end. It was a subtle thing, how reality unwound.
Sometimes it came quickly, when purposefully done. He could usually remember those endings well, if he was present.
He’d even met the end of all things, the first entity, and the last, once. When all realities faded away, and there was only himself and that being, he would finally cease to be, he assumed.
Still, the world before him was a slow end. It had taken years, but this realm had scoured life from itself.
Sentience was gone, except for him.
“Sauron Bane..” he muttered, “What a name I chose.”
He took another long drag from his pipe, letting the smoke he breathed out spiral around him.
“The two together was the goal, but have I not become only the first? Or perhaps only the second...”
Another long sigh, as he stood from his spot. He visited places like this more often then most beings realized. To be honest, he couldn’t remember the first time he’d seen such a scorched wasteland anymore. Nor the cause of the most recent.
“Destroyer of the Abhorrent. The Destroyer. The Abhorrent...” the words were spoken softly, despite the fact that he could have screamed them, and none would hear.
Sauron reached up, and pulled off his mask. Magic burned inside the scorched cavity of his face.
He peeled off his gloves, desiccated, skeletal hands stashing the objects in his pockets.
An azure glow suffused exposed flesh, burning brighter as he looked out, one last time, one the realm.
“Death shall now claim you. Goodbye, little world. This one, as the last... as the next. May the next reality be brighter.”
Tendrils of energy arced from him, grabbing matter and disintegrating it. Second by second the edges of the realm collapsed towards him, folding in on itself as he burned it away, crafting a doorway to another plane.
When he went through it, the door would merge with his own realm. Bogton. Sustaining the last vestiges of his world, and binding it to another plane. Hopefully more stable than this dying one.
As the door opened, he slowly donned his mask and gloves, letting out one last low sigh for the reality.
The door closed behind him, and another realities hourglass ran out.