The clouds split wherever I choose. The flesh of the beasts turns white and melts away at my will. The core no longer matters. The completion no longer matters. All that's left are the beasts, the dome, and my two lasers.

 The visage of a British man I've never met walks through my consciousness, and as I focus my blazing rays of Heaven, his question is all I can think to say:

"WHO WANTS SOME!?"