Everywhere, bodies hit the ground--

Aelin's fire filled the sky with colors, and Rhysand's shadows swept the floors. Tarquin's power had flooded the streets, so everyone was drenched. And Feyre stood on the roof of a nearby building choreographing all of her powers into one all-consuming wave of magic. Azriel and Cassian soared the skies, bringing down everyone in their path, and Amren, in her true form, a mighty dragon, trampled the waves of soldiers, leaving a sea of bodies in her wake. Rowan stood with his back against Aelin's, striking down anyone who got close enough to even look at her; his wind picking up nearby debris and crushing his opponents. Mor stood in the corner looking bad-ass.

The battle was looking up-- Rhysand met Feyre's eyes, and Aelin met Rowan's. Their enemies-- Hybern, Erawan, and Maeve, were all falling (Tamlin had already died a rather uneventful death). They were going to win.

Then, everyone looked up to see a meteor falling from the sky. Before any of them could even yell out a warning, the rock hit the Earth, destroying all of Prythian and the eight-million kingdoms in Throne of Glass. TWO DIMENSIONS-- the impact of the meteorite was that powerful.

Once the smoke had cleared, a single figure could be seen sitting in the distance; staring at the still waves of the ocean. It was Fleetfoot the dog, "the only guaranteed survivor of this series" - Sarah J. Maas.

THE END

**totally joking-- the story doesn't end here. My friend and I just thought this was funny.