[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/EcyXeUO.png[/img][h1]Father Wolf.[/h1]
[/center][right][b]Interactions:[/b] yes.[/right][right][b][code]Overlooking Elysium Island.[/code][/b][/right][hr][hr]

The time had come. [color=2e2c2c]And so have I.[/color] 

The fierce battle for Elysium Island raged below, with distant thunder and dying screams lost to the wind. Alone at the cliff’s edge, Father Wolf stood. Anya and Lynn were gone—mere names now without bodies. The kitchen knife in his hand looked trivial, its blade slick with their blood, which he wiped off on his glove as if it was nothing. 

Then he laughed. 

The runes appeared. 

Symbols etched themselves onto the blade—ancient, exact, ravenous—no longer hiding. Father Wolf raised the knife and drove it into the stone. The earth accepted it. The runes floated away from the metal, circling slowly in impossible geometry. He raised both hands and began to chant. The sky responded. Reality shattered with a sound like compressed glass. 

The ground trembled. 

The sun disappeared as the moon moved into place, creating a perfect eclipse that plunged the world into darkness. Far away, the tree holding the Stygian Snake shuddered. Then howled. The seal broke. 

Roots burst out as the Snake tore free, its roar echoing across dimensions, heard in worlds untouched by fear. It ripped loose every lesser entity bound to it—every sealed remnant, every forgotten minion—dragging them into its body. The Snake grew, shed, and reformed, its size stretching skyward into the heavens. Hundreds of heads blossomed. 

With another roar, it shed all restraint. Millions of black tendrils erupted, lashing outward in every direction. Nothing could resist or escape. In an instant, Shimmer was no longer a dimension—miles of crucified bodies stood as a testament to inevitability. 

At the cliff’s edge, Father Wolf fell to his knees. 

A single tendril reached him. 

The world fell silent. 

He had won.