บท 145: Oh, The Toll Of War And Blood

Ezra hovered in the inky void, his wings beating with a steady rhythm, the scales blending seamlessly into the moonless night. His silhouette, a mere shadow against the starless expanse, was nearly invisible.

Below, the city sprawled like a sleeping beast, its lights flickering like dying embers. 

His gaze pierced through the glass ceiling of the penthouse below, his sharp eyes catching every detail within the luxurious room. His targets, oblivious to their impending doom, relaxed like all was well with the world.

He listened intently. All was quiet until the stillness was broken by a faint, haunting melody that drifted up to meet him from below. The dirge resonated within him and stirred his vitality like the ripple a leaf makes as it drops to on surface of a pond. 

It was a mournful hymn that spoke of loss and despair. He smiled softly at the lyrics.

"In fields where silence echoes loud,