The illusions broke, and Sagiri fell forward, panting, trying to catch his breath. He stood in the newly formed depression. It was as if the escalation and his snapping had finally let go of the feelings that had been holding him down. All he felt now was a strange calmness and ice enveloping his heart. The illusion weavers had caught him under their web because of the agitation he was experiencing at the mass graves, the anger he felt for his clan, and the sadness. The illusion was by far the most treacherous secret art he had ever seen. The energies of the place must have been the reason it was stronger. The place was already riddled with agitation, anger, and sadness, and he had fallen into it headfirst.
That won't happen again.
