Izanami crept from the cave of Yomi. Her flesh was rotting, buzzing with flies. Behind her, a thousand hags—the Yomotsu-Shikome—gibbered and shrieked.
"The world ends in decay," she husked.
Inti stood on the ridge of the Andes. He checked his golden earrings. He lifted his face to the sky.
"It's about to get bright," he warned.
The Dawn Strike
Inti didn't use a weapon. He just was.
Heliacal Halo.
The sun rose over the mountain. The light hit the army of the dead like a physical wave of fire.
The Yomotsu-Shikome didn't just die; they evaporated. Their shadows were scrubbed from the rock.
Izanami screamed, covering her face. Use Corpse-Bloom Rot? Impossible. The plants were growing too fast, fueled by Inti's life-giving frenzy. Flowers bloomed and died in seconds, but they were healthy, solar flowers, not products of rot.
Inti focused his gaze. Solar Scourge of Cuzco.
A beam of pure, focused sunlight pinned the Matron of the Dead against the cave mouth. Her rotting flesh hissed and smoked.
"Too hot!" she shrieked, scrambling backward into the dark. "Too bright!"
Inti watched her retreat. He didn't chase her. The Sun doesn't chase shadows; it just waits for them to leave.