High atop the Obsidian Fortress, Demon Lord Malakor's hands were shaking so violently he almost dropped his spyglass.
Down in the valley, it was raw, unfiltered chaos. His Vanguard of the Apocalypse was being systematically dismantled by two mythological dragons who looked like they were just trying to get a chore done as quickly as possible. It was a cinematic masterpiece of destruction, but Malakor wasn't sticking around to watch the B-roll.
He sprinted back into his throne room, his heavy armor clanking, and slammed his fist onto a massive, glowing purple communication crystal.
The crystal hummed, and the holographic projection of Kaelen, his younger brother, flickered into view. Kaelen was smirking, swirling a goblet of dark wine.
"Calling to surrender, brother?" Kaelen sneered. "Have my forces finally pushed you to the brink?"
"Shut up, you arrogant fool!" Malakor screamed, spit flying from his fangs. "Look out your window! Look toward the Ashen Valley!"
Kaelen's smirk vanished. He stepped off-screen for a second. When he came back, his face was as pale as a ghost. "Are those... is that the Ancient Calamity? And the Dragon King?! Why are they burning your army? I thought the dragons were neutral!"
"They aren't neutral today!" Malakor roared. "They are being ordered around by two humans having a picnic on the ridge! Kaelen, listen to me. If we don't call a truce right now, there won't be a Demon Realm left to rule! Teleport your Vanguard here immediately. We must combine our ultimate magic!"
Kaelen didn't hesitate. "Agreed. Truce."
Within seconds, the sky split open with dark lightning as Kaelen teleported directly onto Malakor's balcony, his own elite demonic guard appearing behind him. The two brothers, locked in a brutal civil war for years, stood side-by-side.
They raised their weapons together, chanting an ancient, forbidden incantation. A massive sphere of black, soul-crushing energy began to form above the fortress. It was the Oblivion Sphere—a spell so powerful it drained the life force of the earth itself. The sky darkened. The wind howled.
Down in the valley, Vermithrax and Ignis looked up, sensing the apocalyptic magic charging above them. They bared their teeth, preparing to meet the demons head-on.
But then, back on the picnic blanket, the scene came to a screeching halt.
If this epic battle were a high-energy video, this is exactly where the heavy bass music would abruptly cut out with the sound of a record scratch.
Maya was aggressively digging through her designer tote bag. She pulled out sunscreen, a glossy magazine, and a tube of lip gloss. She patted the pockets. She checked the picnic basket.
Her eye twitched.
"Leo," she said, her voice dropping to a terrifying, deadpan whisper. "My Tom Fords."
Leo froze mid-bite of his sandwich. "Your... your sunglasses?"
"I left my favorite sunglasses on the bamboo chair at the Elven Spa," Maya said, staring blankly at the horizon. "The limited edition ones."
Leo swallowed hard. He didn't look at the massive, world-ending ball of dark magic forming over the Demon Castle. He looked at his wife, whose vacation vibe was currently plummeting into the danger zone.
Leo cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled down into the valley. "HEY! GUYS! HOLD UP! CUT THE ACTION!"
Down in the valley, Ignis and Vermithrax instantly froze in mid-air.
"We have a Code Red!" Leo shouted, pointing a thumb back the way they came. "Maya forgot her sunglasses at the spa! We need them back, stat!"
Vermithrax's golden eyes widened in sheer panic. An apocalyptic demon spell was one thing, but an annoyed Maya was a threat to his actual soul. "Grandfather! We must make haste! If we do not retrieve the shaded spectacles, she will turn us into luggage!"
Ignis let out a terrified roar of agreement. Without a second of hesitation, the two mythological beasts completely turned their backs on the Demon Lords, broke the sound barrier, and rocketed away toward the Elven Kingdom at Mach 10, leaving a sonic boom in their wake.
Up on the balcony, Malakor and Kaelen stood there, their legendary Oblivion Sphere fully charged and pulsing with dark lightning. They were sweating, panting from the sheer effort of summoning their ultimate attack... and completely confused.
The battlefield was empty. The dragons were just... gone.
"Did... did we win?" Kaelen panted, holding his glowing daggers.
Before Malakor could answer, Leo's voice echoed all the way up to the balcony, magically amplified.
"HEY! DEMON GUYS!"
Malakor and Kaelen looked down at the tiny hill in the distance. Leo was waving his arms casually.
"YEAH, YOU TWO WITH THE GLOWING BALL OF DOOM!" Leo yelled. "WE'RE GONNA TAKE A QUICK THIRTY-MINUTE BREAK! DON'T GO ANYWHERE, WE STILL NEED YOUR MASTER BEDROOM! JUST... HOLD THAT SPELL FOR A BIT, OKAY?!"
Maya poured herself another glass of sparkling water, entirely unbothered by the bewildered Demon Lords. "If those sunglasses have a single scratch on them, I am canceling this entire dimension."