Raid #70

He did not like floating islands. Not one bit. There was one particular chunk of sky-bound terra that had brought him much grief in the past, and such memories were quite bitter even after all this time. It was not just some oblivious clot of dirt populated with bumpkins either, but a full-blown city at the sky’s cusp. Xande did not even attempt to hide his displeasure. He had been unable to do away with a smear of untamed soil, and so this Bhujerba stood to mock him? Was that the intent? Well then it was simple: as his greeting to this world, he would swiftly and decisively smash this city across the ground far below.

His cape fluttered behind as he stepped into the plaza. There were a few who stared after the black-skinned Hume in their presence, but for the most part the Skycity’s inhabitants simply continued with what they were doing. Xande admitted that this was not the most colorful world he had laid eyes on, but the demographics seemed quite diverse to him. There were humans, reptilian beings, pig-like bipeds, and now and then some sort of furry creature baring an uncanny resemblance to those Moogles Unne found herself surrounded with. Disgustingly brittle little things. Among those present were a few armed individuals clad in green - all of whom seemed to be at least mildly interested in him - but they did not even register as a threat. Perhaps they were skilled wielders of the blade to cutpurses and drunken brawlers, they failed to radiate even the slightest hint of magic. Their weapons may as well have been made of cheese.

Now approaching the center of the area, the sorcerer decided there was no better time to begin his work. These people weren’t just going to incinerate themselves, after all.

He first gave his closed knuckles a squeeze, producing cracks from their loosening joints in sequence. Next came the neck, which produced a similar noise as he lurched his head first to the left, than the right. Fingers drummed subconsciously on the staff they clenched as he looked around, his gaze seeming almost disinterested in his surroundings. Then, with a snort, he brought his arm to the side and fired a Thundaga down the roadway. He did not even look to aim as he loosed a tangle of weaving lightning tendrils into the screaming cloud. He could clearly kiss windows breaking and brief cries of pain, and that was enough. Even when the guards from earlier came at him Xande showed no interest, only apathetically waving a hand in their directions one-by-one as columns of fire sprouted from beneath their feet. There was no struggle. No resistance. This land would fall, and then so too would the rest of the world. The island simply had to go first.