The sky begins to darken from black to blood red it turns but only for an unseen moment as the kingdom continues its daily life

The unseen mist passes into a small hut in the town square a simple house nobody ever cared about

Veronica chuckles as she notices the flash, teleporting above Toriaku hanging upside down in his face. “Blood red, really? And mist? You’re boring as hell.”

She lands inside the house, sitting on the floor.

“See here is the thing I am going to corrupt a crane to start anarchy and then after the king is overthrown and everyone just got out of a revolution” Toriaku replies, and then pauses for effect. “I turn them all dust by making a complex killing game murdering a crane every now and again then murdering the victor of the game and getting a disciple out of it.”

“That seems like it would take way too long. How about I just remove the king, creating a mass panic among the people, and then you start your game today? The end of the world can have slow steps, but you also need to know when to up the tempo.”

“If I did that, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun, don’t you agree?”

“Oh well, do it your way. I’ll probably fall asleep before things really kick up though.”

“Anyway, please allow me to corrupt this crane and make him my disciple. Much appreciated.”

“Sure, whatever. It’s no fun when you force your opinion on someone but I guess I don’t care much.” She steps outside

Veronica walks around town, still invisible, letting her blood drip into certain water reservoirs and food rations.

“Hello child, what might your name be?”

“Why do you care?” The child responds.

Toriaku, realizing that this boy will not be easily persuaded, he begins to take him over.

Veronica returns to the hut after her walk.

Toriaku begins to light the hearth in his home trailing all manner of flammable materials around the house, grabbing a torch and dousing it with oil, then walking out of house

He stands in the plaza in front of the castle and opens an oil jar he stole from his surrogate body’s house. He smashes on the ground and spreads the oil across the plaza. He then lights it ablaze with his torch.

Using his powers, he implants the idea that the king will be the downfall of the kingdom into everyone in the capital’s minds.

Veronica continues to walk around, curious about how the town has changed while casually skipping through the flames.

As a result of people consuming Wiccan blood tainted rations and water, many begin to erupt in sores, encasing their body, before they become so filled they bust open, spreading blood around them.

Toriaku rises into the air as he casts a time bubble around the city, accelerating time within it.

Guards are afflicted by the Wiccan blood, exploding, the remaining grouping into small hold-outs.

Veronica falls asleep on a roof somewhere, because she’s bored and low on blood

“Veronica, wake up I’m destroying the city.”

She groans and turns over, “Low blood, need rest.”

“Oh come off it, you wanted to see this.”

The king of cranes, Thor, views the chaos from the balcony of his castle. Horrified, he runs and hides in the deepest part of the castle, known to none but he and his royal guard, though the royal guard has most certainly met their demise.

Veronica, still tired, rolls off the roof and falls to the ground.

Veronica smacks herself awake, then yawns

“Did he seriously have to wake me up when I was finally sleeping peacefully?”

The mobs of people begin divulging into conflict, armed with whatever they found in their house. Pitchforks, flintlock pistols, muskets, swords, axes, planks of wood, even just torches.

“I woke ya up cause it is beginning.”

“Ahh, got it. Oh, this is gonna be fun!” She giggles

The hordes ripped each other apart, limbs, guts, and blood flying everywhere. Families tore each other apart, friends became enemies, all in the haze of Toriaku.

Veronica found a joy in watching the cranes pay for abandoning her kind, but the carnage looks almost too similar to her village and she starts to get hazy-eyed as the spirits of the dead Wiccan start screaming at her constantly, deafeningly, ashamed that their own kind would condone such senseless violence.

“Did you have fun, little one?”

“You killed everyone, I have no admiration for you. I wish you dead.”

Veronica walks beside Toriaku, invisible to the child.

“No child. If you are not for us, you are against us. And the penalty for that is a brutal, shameful death.

Veronica places her arm in front of Toriaku.

“Let me do it. I caused this.”

“Very well, Veronica.”

“Thank you.”

She steps behind the child, quickly snapping its neck with her hands.

The screams grow almost unbearable, blaring in Veronica’s ears to the point where she can barely stand, and she drops to her knees with her head in her hands.

“You seriously know how to kill races, little bird.”

Veronica mutters as she runs her fingers through the pools of blood in the streets.

Bellator sits in the forest cottage, the screams so loud they can be heard miles away in this forest, wondering if anything will be left. In the back of his mind, he knows it's Toriaku, but he suppresses it.

Now in the early hours of the morning, Bellator lays back and apprehensively falls asleep, the question still lingering in his mind.

Veronica hides her form and teleports near Bellator, watching.