(THIRTY-SEVEN) I Am Come

Fantasmagoria

Kraxus was down. He was crumpled in a fetal ball, tail tucked under his body, as the biodroid sucked the energy from his wounds. He was dark, limp, inert, more like a giant rubber suit than a monster-god of destruction.

The sun peeked over the horizon, and the world was still. Dawn of the last day.

The Apocalypse. Judgment Day.

The first last rays of morni…