He landed in the library, vaguely registering the werewolf lurking in the shadows, leaning against a desk, her back against a dead, black holoscreen. With a dry laugh, the Phoenix stared out the window at Nothing. Cracks of blue crossed the city, and no one was there to witness it. Why had She intervened in the evacuation? They were just people, lives that would return to her in the end. It was Her world that she was splitting apart further.
"The world is... reforming," He finally concluded.
The werewolf said nothing. No one else watched from the shadows, and a dreadful quake rocked the library. If his people were still here, they may be killed by Malkiz falling in on itself.
"I knew this would happen," He laughed.
"You didn't," The werewolf said, standing up. Her shadow was long, too long for her body. "I'm sure you expected this, though."
He did.