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Everything was chaos. Darkness. Light. Wrath. Hope. Not even Bahamut’s words swayed him all too much, despite knowing deep down that he was right. The rage was unbearable, and the daemon inside of him told him to go ahead. To unleash his full power and to show what a cosmic daemon can do...

A few seconds after he thanked Cynthian for removing the poison from his body (golly, wasn't poison a most dastardly fiend for a Fairy-type!), Icetales was back on his feet, running from a platform to another to share words of encouragement and hope. "My comrades, we can do it!" he yelled left...

Icetales didn’t like it. He didn’t like being back to that distorted dimension at all! It reminded him too much of the darkness he summoned back at the facility, of the shadow of his father emerging from the floor, of the daemons that crawled on his homeworld. …Well, the latest detail was...

...That foul imitation of a daemon is calling, son. Thou shall not stay in such a threatening place. Those psychics could easily tear thee apart... Oh? Icetales glanced briefly at the specter by his side. He was trying to ignore his presence by focusing on his comrades and making sure they fled...

Well, wasn’t that the bedlam! Icetales had barely the time and mind power to register the quick succession of events that transpired in such a short lapse. So! First they had to face an enormous fusion of the creation gods. Nothing too strange, flaying legendary flanks had become a permanent...