The cries heard from Monarch Mount shook the kingdoms of Nirvia, but none were louder than the cry of a daughter named Hela Calland.

Her body was numb as all of her senses dulled, blood staining her hands as she held the bodies of her parents. Their eyes no longer held familiar light, forever frozen open in fear. Their mouths were open in silent screams as blood pooled from deep within their throats, their shouts strong enough to tear apart their very body. Hela's vision was blurred from blood and tears as she mourned over the two people she loved. Loved. She didn't glance to her right, knowing her brother, Faelen, was dangerously close to joining them, and her son, Wyborne, was at her left as he tried getting her attention. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, overwhelming her with its coppery tang.

Her hands trembled as her unseeing eyes darted between the bodies in her lap and the dying forms of the last two people she truly loved. Comforts choked out of Faelen, and Wyborne died in her ears as her grief sharpened into pure rage. Her last sensible parts withered and died against her parents as she slowly rose. Blood coated her body and armor as her eyes slowly rose to the skies where traitorous Monarchs flew alongside Warren, her ex-mate. The air grew cold around her as her anger manifested physically, sending shivers down the spines of those nearby.

No survivors.

The scream she released made the mountains tremble, and every being paused in absolute fear. No longer was a woman grabbing her dual swords; there was a beast in her place. Her head snapped to the side as she mutely instructed someone to tend to Faelen and Wyborne, her words mere grumbles as she stalked toward the traitors. She let out a gutteral scream as she swung her swords, the blade singing in the air as they made every mark, more blood splattering over her body as bodies dropped, heads flying away as she made quick work of anyone who stood in her way. Heads for later, example, she grunts in her mind as she mercilessly kills those who sided with Warren, those who no longer deserved another breath of life.

Her eyes found the one her soul sang to destroy as he called for a retreat. "Warren!" she shouts, her face contorted in fury as her steps quickened. It brought her a sick joy to see this fucking coward look at her in fear as he quickly shifted, his dark red Monarch form quickly taking off with a small, fae woman. She releases one final roar, the noise causing a faraway mountain to crack and crumble. She pants, the noise of battle dying in her ears as she is left with a rage that needs to be quenched. Someone has to be blamed. And she knew who.

She slowly turns her head to the offenders, her mates, as they slowly approach her, trying to calm her down. Her rage blinded her, her monster fully overturned as she zeroed in on fae ears.