"Beautiful."
The Stitch Mother stepped in close, her smile stretching and growing and widening into a monstrous set of infinitely stacked mandibles and fangs. Her million limbs began weaving a thread of pure divine aura around Rickter's form, binding him in body and spirit and soul and aether while he was forced to stare down her maw. Once he was wrapped up entirely save for his face, the Aetherium's raw energy forced itself out of his gullet and eyes, a blindingly painful extrusion. The energy poured down her gullet, and with it, she pulled his memories from him as well. With it, she tore out the bonds of the Echo and his forebears, consuming them all entirely.
Once all of his aether, both foreign and domestic, was drained out of the god, she dropped him unceremoniously to the ground, still wrapped up in her aetheric silk. The energy she'd absorbed from him was then cast back into the world, following Rickter's own bonds with the living and the dead, little invisible spiders walking invisible lines. To every person who'd ever met Rickter, heard his name, interacted with him in anyway, had one of these creatures heading their way, passing freely through magical wards, stone and metal and any and all manners of defense and obstruction without even slowing.
The little spiders found their many charges, and crawled into them, disappearing into their souls. And with the smallest of bites, all in a unified coordination, they injected Her venom. And with it, Rickter was burned away from them and the bonds that the creatures had followed were dissolved.
Every person, every sentient creature, every spirit and dragon and lesser God that she had touched now never knew Rickter. There was a Void in all their lives, memories, and hearts now. For many, they would simply forget and never think about it again. But for those that knew him more intimately, for those whose lives were more closely entangled with his, they would find their minds and hearts trying to repair the damage of his removal. On this day, many would experience a great and painful grief and sense of loss, with no idea as to why. And then their minds would begin repairing their memories to make it all make sense.
The attentive father and pack leader was now the forgettable man that abandoned them all. The caring and protective lover was now a one night stand with a faceless stranger. Every mind reacted differently, repaired itself differently, but all were affected and none spared.
Rickter was gone.
Myshala stared down at the drained God of Frost, her million mandibles chittering softly. She then looked up at the Monolith and a moment later, it was twained in two, each piece jutting away from each other. A gateway was opened, passing through the longest stretch of impossible emptiness, before spilling out into the pocket dimension that was built here.
"You will be missed, Winds of Mercy," another black tear rolling down her face and to the ground, where it popped back up as a spider and scurried off.
