He stood upon the precipice of his darkened temple, the furor borne of the wrath of Eru raged around him. He stared out into the west and watched as the world was spilt asunder and changed forever more. From the great chasm rose a wave, a wall of water as tall as any of the greatest peaks of Middle Earth. It surged across the sea and broke upon the shores of Elenna. Wreaking carnage and chaos in it's wake, it swallowed all that it met. He opened his mouth and from it emanated a laugh of endless malice, here he stood facing the rage of the one himself, in open defiance, his death assured.
But his cruel laugh pierced the world still, for all around him his designs came at last to fruition. The utter destruction of Numenor had come, its people would be drowned and laid into ruin. At last he would suffer no rival in his dominion, the realms of Middle Earth were now his for posterity. So it was Sauron laughed, pouring in all his hatred, for the land that now washed away around him, until at last it too claimed him, and swept him down beneath the tempest of waves.