In a forest shrouded by the dim light of dusk, a group of scattered individuals stood frozen, their gazes locked in a singular direction. Their fear was palpable, almost tangible in the stillness of the air.
“It’s all my fault… What have I done?” Ramond’s voice trembled as his wide, fearful eyes remained glued to the figures emerging from the ominous magic circle.
Nearby, Ave broke into a dry, almost maniacal laugh. “And to think I dreamed of living a long life. Hey, Scry! Guess you were right after all —except we’re all in this together.”
Scry, however, did not respond. His focus was solely on the source of their terror.