Oh God, I don't know. Sometimes you've just got to write out these things so they stop bothering you, and it might make someone smile.


The Phoenix King staggered on unsteady feet up from the rubble, like a drowning man bursting to the surface, hair slick with sweat and blood.

He had won.

He had gone up against a living God, and he had won. Humanity's jailer lay dead in the mud, no match for his ruthless determination. He could barely believe it. He had stared into those two blank stars, that inhuman glare, and he had put them out.

The Phoenix King felt like laughing. But there was still much to do. He was tired, exhausted even, by the battle, but his glorious Armada could no doubt carry out the mission still. The devastation of the Earth Kingdom was little more than an afterthought now, but he hated to see a job unfinished.

His glorious Armada-

His glorious...


"Oh bollocks."