Prelude: The Sky Weeps Fire
At dawn, the world cracked open.
The Throne Shard — vast, black, and bladed like a monstrous dagger — pierced Velmora's atmosphere, trailing fire and shadow.
Its gravitational pulse crushed entire mountains.
Its shockwaves shattered the seas into vapor.
Its death squads — genetically-forged horrors — rained down like black stars.
The sky, once free, now burned again.
But this time—
Velmora stood ready.
⸻
The Final Charge
Zaraya stood at the head of the armies, her armor cracked, her fists burning with starlight.
Behind her:
• Threx Soluun, leading the heavy infantry in salvaged Skyhold war-machines.
• Amari Vey, directing stealth strikes to sever the Shard's stabilizers.
• The Broken Moons, riding graviton beasts and wielding ancient Velmorian crystalblades.
Across the horizon, the armies of the Dominion advanced — black tide against broken earth.
And between them, towering in the heart of the Throne Shard's descending shadow,
stood Zar'Khul Prime.
The world itself seemed to hold its breath.
Zaraya raised her hand.
A single word tore across the battlefield:
"NOW!"
The armies collided.
⸻
The Battle of the Ages
The ground quaked with impact after impact:
• Exo-armor clashed with Dominion void-hunters.
• Crystalborn tore through blackened titan mechs.
• Plasma cannons shattered mountainsides.
• Gravity bombs ripped open the crust.
The Velmorians fought not for conquest, but for the right to exist.
And in the heart of the chaos,
Zaraya charged toward Zar'Khul Prime.
⸻
The Duel: Liberastra vs Zar'Khul Prime
They met at the shattered center of the battlefield.
Zar'Khul towered over her — obsidian skin cracked and burning, Void Pike humming with devouring power.
"You could have ruled a world of your own," he said, voice like a storm.
"You chose death instead."
Zaraya wiped blood from her mouth, smiled through broken teeth.
"You don't get it," she said.
"I didn't choose death.
I chose life."
And then she attacked.
⸻
The Clash
Their battle was an explosion of forces beyond mortal comprehension:
• Zaraya's cosmic pulse roared through her fists, detonating graviton fields.
• Zar'Khul's void-field drained energy with every swing, trying to snuff her light.
Each blow cracked the earth.
Each impact ruptured the air.
They fought across miles—
—through burning forests, over collapsed mountains, into the open air itself.
Zaraya was faster.
Zar'Khul was heavier.
Zaraya was relentless.
Zar'Khul was inevitable.
⸻
The Breaking
Minutes stretched into an eternity.
Zaraya landed a blow that cracked Zar'Khul's armor —
—but he drove his Void Pike through her side, spearing her cosmic core.
Pain lanced through her body.
Her knees buckled.
She fell, gasping, blood pouring into the dust.
Around her, the Velmorian forces faltered, watching their champion fall.
Zar'Khul stepped forward, towering over her, the Void Pike still burning through her flesh.
"It ends," he said. "As it always must."
He raised his weapon for the final blow.
⸻
The Awakening
In that final heartbeat—
Zaraya thought of the pool of primordial light.
She thought of the countless children she fought for.
She thought of every chain broken, every song sung again, every life yet to be lived.
And something within her answered.
Not rage.
Not desperation.
Hope.
A surge of pure cosmic will burst from her wound, shattering the Void Pike in Zar'Khul's hands.
She rose—
—not with strength,
—but with belief so fierce it reignited the stars above her.
Her body became a living comet of energy.
She was not a soldier.
She was not a queen.
She was freedom itself.
⸻
The Final Blow
Zaraya's fist—charged with the pure pulse of life itself—drove into Zar'Khul's chest.
Not to kill.
To unbind.
The void-forged armor cracked.
The cosmic dampeners collapsed.
The Dominion's chains, woven into his very being, snapped.
For one instant, Zar'Khul Prime's cold, burning eyes flickered—
—not with rage.
But with release.
He smiled—just once—
—a small, broken smile.
And then he collapsed, a titan undone.
⸻
The Aftermath: A New Dawn
With Zar'Khul's fall, the Throne Shard's control systems failed.
The titanic fortress cracked and fell back into orbit, tearing itself apart in a dying scream.
The Dominion forces, leaderless and reeling, surrendered or fled.
Across Velmora Prime, across the ruins, across the stars, a single cry echoed:
"LIBERASTRA! LIBERASTRA!"
The girl who had once stared through a grate at distant stars—
—the orphan, the fighter, the flame—
had shattered an empire.
Not alone.
Together.
⸻
Closing Words:
"She did not conquer.
She did not rule.
She did not kneel.
She laughed—and the chains broke."
— The Song of Liberastra, sung across Velmora and beyond