The Real Chaos

The atmosphere was oppressive, charged with a dark, pulsating energy that seemed to vibrate through the ground. Mary Rose stood at the center of a vast, desolate field, where the skies were painted red and black, as though the world itself bore witness to the harbinger of an impending apocalypse. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and her eyes gleamed with a sinister determination. The wind howled around her, carrying an acrid scent of death and decay. 

Before her lay the massive remains of Tiamat, resting in a deep crater—a grotesque mixture of enormous bones and decaying flesh. The majesty that once defined the great dragon had been replaced by a hideous sight, but Mary Rose wasn't fazed. On the contrary, she smiled—a grin that was equal parts triumph and madness.