Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20151030164455/@comment-26355186-20160109180952

Enxor kept smiling as the Gjallarhorn rocket hit him. He was not feeling the pain anymore. His armour shattered, exposing the bare bones that lay beneath. Slowly, the god stood up, supporting himself on his scythe. Now, the Witherer of Light was withering away himself. With a loud crack, Enxor's left leg gave in to the punishment it had recieved, and broke away from the rest of the body. Enxor didn't even give it a glance as it tumbled down into the abyss. He cared not for the loss of limbs, now that his very soul was about to be engulfed by his very own cosmos. Still barely steadying himself on the gigantic scythe that had been his signature, Enxor put both hands on the hilt of the weapon, and with a wide swing, he threw it upwards, causing the scythe to disappear in the darkness. The god fell down to his knee, coughing up ash as most of ribcage turned into crushed bones. Barely even sitting upright, Enxor looked at his world one final time as his eyes went blind one by one. A large, maniacal grin spread across the god's face, for Enxor knew. Enxor knew that his End had come. With his body rapidly melting away into the dark, and his soul vanishing with it, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Enxor felt mortal. He steadied his hands on the ground, drew one last breath from the corrupted air around him, and pushed. The lifeless, cold and empty husk that once been Enxor, God of Death fell down deep into the nightmare realm he had weaved himself. The Bone Wraith was dead.