A view of a burning city entered my gaze. Collapsed houses, burning corpses, screaming children searching for their parents, the soldiers trying their best to evacuate the people, but dying nonetheless, men going mad from the absolute carnage that engulfed their probably once peaceful lives.
It was a view I could describe as utter hopelessness.
But even through all of this, there were two beings that stood out greatly.
One was a tall, large warrior in golden armour. Wings of bright orange fire on their back, silky golden hair possessing so much lustre you couldn’t be blamed for thinking it was actual gold and vermillion red eyes that burned with hatred and outright righteous fury. They wielded a spear in one hand.
This spear possessed a silver shaft with inscriptions made of the Elecryean tongue that I couldn’t really make out without the agent. Its blade was sharp, pointed and gave off the feeling that staring for too long would pierce my vision and render me blind.