The sky was bruised purple. The land scarred.
And yet, somehow, they were alive.
When the dust settled, and the blood-soaked winds died down, the remaining survivors of the Hather Kingdom stood in reverent silence. Medics moved between the injured. Rogues sat slumped, arms bandaged in layers. Swords planted into the dirt served as both weapons and gravestones.
And then, they arrived.
Three streaks of brilliance tore across the sky and landed near the command tent with a sound like thunder cracking against stone.
Gareth Vael.
And the two epic-ranked awakeners who had joined him in annihilating the mutant at the ruins.
Their arrival sent ripples through the camp. Soldiers straightened. Mages went stiff. Conversations dropped to murmurs.
Gareth's expression was a storm waiting to break.
