Now into space the Lich King transcends

He is formless, a spectre, a void

Looming and dwarfing the crimson sun

Time quickens and earth is destroyed



Celestial bodies are fodder for razing

Planets, gas giants are ripe

Crowding around him, he grows ever larger

Begins the great galactic wipe



Sword

Is

Raised

And Canis Majoris is cleaved in twain and the

Sparks form a three hundred million mile trail of floss

The Horsehead Nebula consumed in a fireball

Stretching three and a half lightyears across



Metaphysical blade shears a massive black hole

Its accretion disc scatters as dust

Lunging and swinging, the targets grow tiny

Milky Way flickers, impaled on a thrust



Omniclasm



Whole galaxies stir with a turn of his hand

Novas like fireflies swirl in the air

His tremendous size exceeds the universe now

Suddenly, only black everywhere



Fourth dimension unfurls to his hollow eyes

All time and all space revealed, he sees

Abstract concepts, immutable truths

He'll kill these too, he thinks, and is pleased



Sword

Is

Raised

And astronomy, poetry, love, mathematics

Fall prey to a screaming slash

Chemistry, metallurgy and more are

Undone in a blinding flash



Civics, aesthetics, philosophy, logic

Are crushed in a psionic vise

Reason is dying, an unspeakable

End result of his dead paradise



This is his Omniclasm



Back in the ash cloud that once was Earth

The Nucleomancer remains

Comprehends the King's plan at last

Bellows and rises in flame



Furious blaze explodes in size

And the King notes the emerald speck

Howling up through the airless gloom

Blossoming green from total black



Usurper begins to coalesce

Threads of physics all unwind

"All hail the king," the stars cry, dying

A final battle at the end of time



Sword

Is

Raised

And morningstar meets it, gargantuan flares

Sent thundering from non-corporeal steel

Each strike blocked is answered, in a

Cosmic, cacophonous catherine wheel



The King sees his way to destroy everything

A last concept lies behind his foe

He swings, enemy thinks it a miss

And readies the killing blow



Omniclasm



The King begins to cackle

At the climax of the bout

His aim was true, he'd run it through

Reality itself winks out