Anor Londo lay in ruins. It's once great walls and spirals had been toppled, it's guardians slaughtered, it's Gods brought to ruin. None survived the onslaught of the Omegans, and with the destruction of the Curse of the Undead, all hope was lost to the realm. Solaire had fought to the best of his abilities, but he was no match for the combined might of the Omegans. In the end, they had not even deemed him a threat, leaving him alive, if wounded, in Blighttown. The great dragon that had attacked voidwalker had either been destroyed or had escaped. Voidwalker had simply nuked it's hiding place, and never found a body. Nobody remained to protect the First Flame, and with it, one of the final Seals of Omega.

Cosmos walked forward, flanked by Kihaku and Void. Bahamut stood over the body of Gwyn, weighing the Sun God's sword in his hands. Ever since he had broken his previous sword on the wire creature, he had been stuck using inferior weaponry. But the weapon of this god glowed with fiery power, and he had taken a lking to it. The wire creature itself had left the vicinity, drawn away by some other conflict. It did not matter. Nothing did, besides the fact that the Omegans were one step closer to victory.

Raising his hands, Cosmos reached deep into the complex enchantmants that held the Seal closed. Like puzzle pieces, he slotted in the souls of the Lords, creating and altering the arcane connections, working his way through layer after layer of arcane protection. Genocide would have been able to do it more quickly, but they would have to do without him. In mere moments, the Seal would be released. And then only two Seals would remain between them and victory.