The fist heading for Drac's face struck the armoured guantlet, plated fingers curling around Bug's hand. A sudden wind blew through the streets, and a strange heat could be felt. Drac didn't move an inch, as the kinetic force of the strike was absorbed and dissipated, turned to wind and heat, and static electricity. The ability was unmistakable, an energy transfer as facilitated by the relic only Drac had access to. A weapon of unknown origin and power, there was no known way it could have been replicated.
"Well, to an extent, you're right. I'm not Drac, not really. But to you, I am." He snaps his fingers, and once more, the world is engulfed by that all-devouring light.
A broken world, a shattered moon. Pieces of debris still floated around, a field of corpses, ripped apart by the vacuum of space. Cooked and frozen, blasted with supernatural energies. Still the great pieces of debris glowed red-hot, still the aura of powerful magic lingered in this place. And on the floor, not far from where Bug was standing, he himself lay on the ground, beaten and broken. He could feel some immense power, a force of destruction unlike anything he had felt before. And yet, it felt almost natural, as if it was part of the universe around it. An element of existence, as necessary as creation itself.
"Welcome to the end of the world. If you look around, I'm sure you'll find your friends somewhere. I'm pretty sure most of them were devoured when the seal shattered, you won't find much of them. Or at least not recognizably." Drac, or at least the image of him, was still standing there, unmoving. And yet, here, he looked..... fading. As if he was only partially there. "This is the timeline where you failed, where destruction was unleashed upon the universe. Where a weapon fails, the seals are released, and everything you have ever worked for is destroyed. Or at the very least, this is the beginning of the end."