She stood watching as the ocean of magma churned and spat. It would not be long now, she thought.  Already, the volcano was restless.  Some of the splatters leapt almost to the top of the vast underground chamber.

The magma level was slowly rising, too.  Soon it would start to accelerate, and then not even she would be able to turn back.

Not that she would want to.  She had nurtured this plan for too long now to change track.  She had worked for thousands of years to create just the right environment: Cutting off escape routes, blocking expansion, occasionally stepping in when things got out of hand.

They would scatter to the wind, she was sure of it. At least one would land where she needed it, and then she could move on to the next stage.

Soon, she thought. Soon...