A deep voice echoed from the screen. It was the voice of the repack’s corrupted database—the one he’d named “The Aspect of Last Chances.”
Kaelen stumbled back. His screen was no longer a screen. It was a window.
As he stepped into his own broken, beautiful creation, he heard his apartment door open. A Blizzard enforcement officer, holding a cease-and-desist.
Tonight, he was trying to fix the sky.
But wrong. Better. The magma flows of the Primalist future had been replaced by rivers of liquid starlight. The djaradin, instead of hunting dragons, were kneeling before a crystalline version of Alexstrasza. And the sky… the sky wasn’t a texture. It was a living tapestry of five dragonflight colors, weaving in and out of reality.
He hit ‘enter’.
He took the dracthyr’s hand.