rolled 6, 3, 3 = 12
Kharok shakes beneath you and above, a great city usurped by greatest evil. The power and strength of the gods pulses like lightning through the bones of this final fortress as the demon draws its last. Every single missile that can be launched is launched. Every single weapon that can be fired is fired. Every failsafe disengages and every power plant, every capacitor, every battery and cell and conduit and circuit begins to explode. The demon's deadman switch is tripped, and its wrath unleashed in full.
But it is not over. The gods are free, the gods are here, the gods are in and around and everywhere you can see. The missiles are snatched from the sky, as if by a great hand, and crushed into nothing. The lances, shining so brightly in the cool air, are blocked, misdirected, turned back on themselves and away from the fleet. Every single thing in this place that can be harnessed for power is encased in a shield of light and cast away. In an instant, Kharok is no more. The wreckage falls to the ground, piece by piece, into the crater at the center of the ruins.
And in a moment, you are there, on the bridge of your flagship, amidst the smoking, tattered mess that is left after the battle. Healing light pours in, sweeping softly over all, restoring the injured and the drained, giving life and taking pain. In the center-point, where the city once stood motionless in the air, a single point of light implodes like a dying star, and is no more.
A great, booming voice fills the bridge, just soft enough to be bearable, filled with mirth and fury.
“IT IS GOOD TO BE BACK! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN, MY LITTLE HERO? STILL GETTING INTO TROUBLE, I SEE.”