Leonel's howls descended onto the whole of the Dimensional Verse. Those that were lucky enough to not be destroyed took cover, dodging out of the way of shattering glass windows and collapsing buildings. But the one thing they couldn't escape from was that sound, that howl that would haunt their dreams for decades to come, and even worse than that… the events that would happen afterward.
The blood of Scholars dripped from Leonel's fingers. His mouth had long since closed, but his howls continued to sustain. It was clear that these roars came not from his voice, but his very soul, an entrenched and impossibly deep pain that resonated through his very being.
It wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough. There hadn't been enough death, not enough destruction. He needed more, he wanted more. He wanted to feel more blood drip between his fingers, more bones cracking beneath his claws, more cries of despair to drown out his own.
