She looked up, and saw the black ash drift down from the heavens themselves. She smiled, a peaceful, powerful look in her eyes. Kella was finally Queen.
Her army had charged into the cold wastes of the north, the hot deserts of the south, and always come out victorious. Now, they had completed their final push, and conquered Heaven. Kella snatched the celestial crown, placing it on her perfect platinum hair.
Then she stood in front of her billion troops, and she roared "Who am I?"
A billion voices shouted back: "Queen Kella! Queen Kella! Conquerer of All!"
She smiled, satisfied. Never before had she felt so alive, so full of power. Now, she was the queen of the world. She had been to heaven and back. She had killed the gods and burned heaven to the ground. She was Kella the Queen, Kella the Conquerer, Kella the Killer.
She was Kella the Unstoppable. But now she had to stop. There were no more worlds to conquer. No traitor left to kill. She appeared calm and victorious, but when she was alone that night, she cried and screamed, threw a terrible tantrum as she realised the crushing truth.