Elara Zephyrwind sat alone in her living room, her eyes glued to the glimmering mana-screen in front of her. The newscaster's voice trembled as she fought to remain composed.
"Breaking news! The situation has turned critical on the Isle of Whispers. Contact with multiple student factions has been severed in the aftermath of a catastrophic influx of demonic power. Evacuation procedures have been called. The Academy affirms that teachers are on their way to evacuate survivors. "
Elara's tea slipped from between her shaking fingers and spilled across the floor. She did not even glance down. The seeping warmth of the liquid against her naked toes was a remote, irrelevant feeling.
"Lost communication…" she breathed. The words were parched, sticking in her throat. "No… no, please, no."
