As Eshe stormed away from the shades she had just tortured, her thoughts turned to the Sinister 7. Each of them, like her, had embraced their true nature, but the very idea of working alongside them made her blood boil. They were supposed to be united, a force strong enough to rival Tel-Nu—and yet, the more time passed, the more their fragile alliance crumbled under the weight of their own sins.
"They're nothing," she muttered to herself, her fists clenching as she thought of the others. "Each one of them, too consumed by their own greed, lust, and sloth to see what really matters."
Eshe's steps quickened as her rage grew. She knew they were all the same—each of them playing their own game, focused solely on themselves. Junna—lustful, manipulative—couldn't care less about anything other than satisfying her own twisted desires. Cusi was blinded by his greed, constantly scheming, hoarding everything he could, as if wealth alone would give him power over Tel-Nu.
Eshe laughed bitterly at the thought. What a fool. Cusi was obsessed with riches, but he couldn't see that the real power didn't come from gold or jewels. It came from strength, from sheer, unrelenting force, the kind she wielded as the embodiment of Wrath.
And then there was Kira. Always envious, always bitter, never satisfied. Eshe knew that Kira resented her, envied her power. She could see it in the way Kira looked at her, that twisted hunger for more, for something she would never have. Envy made Kira weak, clouded her judgment, and Eshe despised her for it.
"The others are no better," she thought. Cormac, always eating, always taking more than his share, a glutton in every sense of the word. His constant, mindless consumption made him a liability, nothing more. And Dmitri? Lazy, indifferent. He did nothing, resting on his laurels while the rest of them worked.
Eshe sneered. How could she possibly trust any of them? They were all so consumed by their sins that they had become little more than caricatures of the beings they once pretended to be. The thought of being lumped together with them, relying on them to defeat Tel-Nu, made her sick.
"They're weak," she hissed under her breath. "All of them."
Eshe stopped, her eyes narrowing as she looked out over the dark, twisted landscape of Corintopia. The fortress they had built was nothing more than a lie, a hollow shell of power. It might have been formidable once, but now, as Wrath, she could see the cracks—cracks in the walls, cracks in the loyalty of the shades, and most of all, cracks in the Sinister 7.
"We're not a team," she thought bitterly. "We never were."
Eshe knew that when the time came, none of them would fight together. They'd fight for themselves, for their own selfish desires. Junna would be too busy reveling in her own lust, Cusi too distracted by his greed, and the others would each be lost in their own sins, just as she had expected. The only thing keeping them together was their shared hatred for Tel-Nu—but even that wouldn't be enough when the battle truly began.
Eshe's lip curled as she imagined the moment when everything would fall apart. She could already see it. They'd turn on each other, each trying to take the glory for themselves. And in the chaos, they'd lose. Tel-Nu would destroy them all, and they'd deserve it.
"No," she whispered to herself, her voice low and dangerous. "Not me. I won't be dragged down by their weakness. I'll burn them all to ash if I have to."
She would wait, bide her time. And when the moment came, she would ensure that her wrath was the only force that survived. The others? They were nothing but stepping stones. She would use them if she had to, but in the end, Eshe would be the one standing over Tel-Nu's broken form, her wrath unmatched.
She clenched her fists, flames flickering along her skin as her anger rose once more. The Sinister 7 would crumble, and when they did, Eshe would stand alone, the embodiment of Wrath, the only true power in the world.
"They'll all fall," she whispered, her eyes burning with hatred. "And I'll be the one to make it happen."
Eshe stood at the highest point of her domain, looking out over the twisted landscape of Corintopia, the city she once pretended to protect. Now, its dark streets and crumbling walls mirrored her true nature—destruction, chaos, and fire. But the sight didn't satisfy her, not anymore.
No, the city was too small, too insignificant. The world itself was too insignificant.
Eshe's lips curled into a snarl as she looked toward the horizon. Her rage simmered, barely held in check by the facade of control she forced herself to maintain. But deep down, beneath that surface, the flames of her wrath were growing hotter, wilder. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that destroying Tel-Nu and taking Gaia wasn't enough. It wasn't even close to enough.
"I want more," she whispered, her voice like a hiss of steam escaping from a pressure valve. "I want everything."
Her mind raced with possibilities. The world had always been too small to contain her rage. Even now, in her most powerful form, Eshe could feel the limitations pressing down on her. The land beneath her feet, the sky above—it was all too confining, too restricting for a being like her. She wasn't meant to rule over just one pathetic planet. She was meant to consume everything. The entire universe.
Her eyes gleamed with dark fire as her thoughts expanded beyond the boundaries of Earth. There were other worlds out there, other universes—an endless expanse of creation, waiting to be reduced to ash. She wanted to tear through the fabric of reality itself, to unravel the threads that held existence together. She wanted to see everything burn.
Eshe's heart pounded as she imagined it. The stars, the galaxies, the dimensions—she would scorch them all. Not a single trace of light or life would remain. Her flames would consume the cosmos, and in the end, there would be nothing. Just the beautiful, endless void, and her.
The others wouldn't understand, she knew that much. Junna, Cusi, Kira, even Tel-Nu—they all thought too small. They were focused on this world, on controlling Gaia or toppling the Core 7. But Eshe's vision was far greater. She didn't just want power. She wanted oblivion.
Her breath quickened as the thought took root. She didn't care about ruling. She didn't care about survival. She wanted destruction on a cosmic scale, to erase everything that had ever existed, everything that ever would exist. She wanted the flames of her wrath to burn so hot and so fierce that even the memory of existence would be gone.
Eshe's body began to glow with a fierce, dark energy, flames licking up her arms, across her chest, and into her hair. Her very presence began to warp the air around her, turning it into a searing vortex of heat and hate.
"I'll burn it all," she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her desire. "I'll burn the stars. I'll burn the heavens. I'll burn the fates themselves if I have to."
Her laughter echoed across the desolate city, a cold, bitter sound that sent tremors through the very ground beneath her feet. The flames grew hotter, fiercer, as if responding to her wild thoughts. The shades in her domain scurried away, terrified of their mistress's growing power.
Eshe barely noticed them. Her thoughts were too far beyond this world now, too consumed by the vision of total annihilation.
"When I'm done," she whispered to herself, "there will be nothing left."
Not Tel-Nu. Not the Sinister 7. Not even her own twisted form. In the end, all would be reduced to ashes, and Eshe would disappear along with them, leaving only the cold, empty void behind. That was her ultimate goal—true, complete destruction.
And in that void, she would finally find peace.