Thordak was finally dead. The Chroma Conclave had finally been defeated. The fight had been a taxing one, as the original plan of course didn’t work, and many ended up hurt or deceased. But, it was over, finally.

Vax’ildan was sat off to the side on some fallen debris, watching as others moved about, collecting the dead and wounded. He’d help, but he needed a minute. He’d be the one who had killed Thordak. Doing it in sake of revenge for his mother and for Percival, but it didn’t feel as rewarding as he and Vex had hoped.

He was still covered in blood, the crimson staining his normally polished armour. He was scratched and bruised, but he didn’t seem to care as he was sat there. He could hear the faint sounds of people talking to one another, checking on each other. Quietly, he sucked in a slow and deep breath, opting for messing with a coin, twirling and flipping it in between his fingers as he looked down at the ground. He was so tired. So unbelievably tired.