'I'll show you what these marionettes can do and how much we don't need gods.'
Smirking despite the near annihilation of his forces, Adam raised his finger toward the veil of roiling dust and smoke blanketing the sky.
From his fingertip, a beam of condensed plasma shot up, shattering the silence with a defiant roar. It reached the sky, filling it with hisses as it vaporised anything it touched until the sun pierced through the grime to bathe the ruined battlefield.
Warm rays brightened the pits gouged out of the earth. They shone upon the horrifying plant creatures assaulting the army's rear and the ocean of vine cocoons that paralysed the vanguard in a devouring embrace, slowly depriving them of their strength—of their lives.
More importantly, it shone on the noble hippogriff cavalry. It shone on Gawain, sending his heart into a drumming frenzy. The poundings reverberated through his ribs and blood as his blond hair turned into golden tongues of flame.
