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Satisfied, Varek turned his attention back to the darkened path ahead and began moving towards the Palace, the weight of the night's carnage hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to break.

---

At the Imperial Palace, the destruction was absolute. The once-grand halls were now rubble and bloodstained floors, echoing the sounds of a dying empire. Saryna and Ulthra arrived first, their figures cutting through the shadowed ruins, the coldness in their eyes mirroring the devastation around them.

Within moments, the others began to arrive, each making their entrance with an air of superiority and power, their very presence commanding attention.

First came Gorrath, a towering demon with horns that curled like a ram's and eyes that burned a deep crimson. His dark armor was stained with the blood of countless foes, and his footsteps were heavy with the weight of his immense power. Gorrath offered Varek a nod, his lips curling into a wicked smile, as if anticipating more destruction.

He had a reputation for being ruthless, and the battlefield was his playground.

Next was Myrris, a slender and graceful woman with deep, golden eyes and long flowing hair that shimmered like the feathers of a phoenix. She glided through the air with a regal presence, her crimson and gold robes trailing behind her like flames. Myrris was known for her deadly fire-based techniques, her command of the phoenix's power unmatched.

She landed silently next to Saryna, her wings folding behind her as she cast a disinterested glance over the ruins.

Thraxis, the dragon, arrived next, his scaled body rippling with strength as he shifted from his towering dragon form into that of a human. His eyes, a piercing blue, gleamed with amusement at the destruction. His silver scales shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and his human form was equally imposing, with a tall, muscular build and a jawline sharp as the swords he carried.

He was arrogant, knowing his draconic blood placed him among the elite, and he made no effort to hide his disdain for lesser creatures.

Following Thraxis came Lokk, a tall, dark-skinned human with a regal air, the youngest among the twelve but no less powerful. His mastery over dark magic had earned him respect, and his cold, calculating demeanor gave him an edge in battle.

He moved with quiet precision, his cloak billowing behind him as he took his place alongside the others, his eyes scanning the area with the wariness of a seasoned strategist.

Fenris, a beast-like figure with fur as dark as night and glowing yellow eyes, arrived next, his primal nature barely restrained. He was from an ancient race of wolf-like beings, feared for their savagery and unmatched strength in combat. Fenris let out a low growl as he looked around, his nostrils flaring as if sniffing for any survivors he could hunt down.

Beside him, Veloria, a vampire like Varek, moved with liquid grace. Her raven-black hair fell down her back, and her eyes sparkled with mischief as she flicked a speck of blood from her nails. Unlike Varek's brooding demeanor, Veloria thrived on chaos, her sadistic smile revealing just how much she had enjoyed the slaughter.

The next to arrive was Xynis, a ghostly figure of a lich, his skeletal form adorned with robes that fluttered as if caught in a phantom wind. His hollow, glowing eyes gave off an eerie light, and his raspy voice cut through the stillness. "Such waste," he muttered, dispassionately surveying the destruction with a tinge of annoyance, as if the carnage was beneath his intellect.

Close behind Xynis was Zelorn, a fae creature with sharp features and glowing blue skin. His slender form moved like a whisper through the shadows, his wings barely visible beneath the darkness. Known for his ability to manipulate nature, Zelorn appeared more amused than anything, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he hovered a few feet off the ground.

Last to arrive was Ulfang, a hulking orc with green skin, towering above the others with his massive frame. His tusks protruded from his lower jaw, and his eyes gleamed with raw power. Ulfang grunted as he made his way through the debris, a giant axe strapped to his back, his every step causing the ground to tremble.

He cast a glance at the group, his expression grim as he crossed his arms and waited in silence.

With all twelve gathered at the heart of the ruined palace, there was an eerie stillness in the air, the weight of their combined power suffocating. Each one of them carried an aura of authority, and despite their different races, there was an unspoken understanding between them—they were united in their purpose, even if their methods and temperaments varied wildly.

Varek, now standing alongside Saryna and Ulthra, gave a sharp nod. "Everyone's here."

Saryna's violet eyes gleamed as she surveyed the group. Her expression remained unreadable, but her posture radiated command. "Good. We move to the next phase of the plan," she said, her voice as cold as the night air around them.

Ulthra leaned lazily against a broken pillar, still grinning from ear to ear. "I hope the next continent puts up more of a fight. This one was too easy."

Lokk's eyes narrowed. "It won't matter. Wherever we go, it will fall just as swiftly. This plane is already lost."

Gorrath cracked his knuckles, a low growl rumbling from his chest. "Let them come. I welcome the challenge."

As the twelve stood together, a sense of impending doom loomed over the ruined palace. The invasion had only just begun, and with each step they took, the Divine Plane inched closer to its annihilation.