The remaining streets were nothing but broken stone, collapsed homes, and bodies that no longer cried out. Braxill ran through the ruins, breathing hard, sweat and smoke stinging his eyes. His body moved at the speed of sound.
Everywhere he looked...
lifeless faces stared back at him.
His heart tightened.
"Joy... this isn't right," he whispered.
His small voice trembled.
"Why did they do this? Why are they so evil?"
No answer came.
Only the crackle of flames and distant screams.
Still, Braxill ran.
Lanni
He stopped suddenly.
His eyes widened, almost refusing to believe what he was seeing.
"Lanni...?"
She lay on her side in the rubble, her moon-colored hair spread through the ash, her armor soaked with blood. She didn't move. Not even a twitch.
Braxill fell to his knees and gently turned her over.
Her face was pale.
Her chest didn't rise.
"Lanni!" His voice cracked.
His eyes glowed bright green.
A tall, unsettling figure materialized behind him, long limbs, bulbous white eyes hidden behind a nurse's hat, wearing a nurse uniform stained by imaginary ink.
Larix Nurse.
The creature knelt beside Lanni, checking her pulse with cold, slender fingers.
She placed two fingers on Lanni's neck.
Then on her wrist.
Then pressed her head to Lanni's chest.
Braxill watched, trembling.
"Is... is she going to be okay?"
Larix Nurse didn't speak.
She never did.
But she placed a hand gently on Lanni's forehead...
Then nodded.
Braxill exhaled sharply, tears of relief forming.
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With another green flash, four more Larix Nurses appeared, all identical and eerie in their silent devotion. They scattered into the streets, tending to every wounded Zoner they could find.
Braxill stood, wiping his eyes.
Something tugged at his spirit, a pull he couldn't explain.
"I don't know how... but something's guiding me," he whispered.
And he ran deeper into the heart of the district.
Elsewhere in the shattered district, Gradix knelt beside a row of wounded Zoners. She pressed cloth to a man's bleeding leg, her hands trembling from the sheer number of injured around her. People lay everywhere, some groaning, others whispering prayers, many too weak to move.
"All these people..." she whispered, voice cracking. "There's too many... it's impossible to help them all."
Willard, the armored Frog Knight, trudged toward her carrying two more wounded civilians over his broad shoulders. He lowered them gently beside a dozen others and spoke with calm, unwavering certainty.
"Master Braxill has imagined several first-aid kits. We should be fine. Please, madam if you panic at a time like this, you will not be useful."
Gradix jerked her head up. "Whatever!"
Willard blinked, visor shining. "I... actually do not know."
Gradix puffed her cheeks in annoyance. "Whatever! Let's just... do our best."
And so they worked.
Gradix tore strips of cloth and wrapped wounds. Willard settled broken limbs and used his shield as a canopy to protect the injured from falling debris. She lifted a child's head and helped him drink from a cracked cup. Willard carried the unconscious to safer corners of the street, his movements surprisingly gentle for such a strange creature. Gradix comforted those who cried, murmuring soft reassurance as she wiped their tears.
Together, the two of them brought a fragile sense of order to chaos — small pockets of hope inside a district that had nearly drowned in despair.
Far toward the Royal District, the Zeta Elders walked in grim silence.
Sephiss led the way, cloak dragging through the ruined streets.
Fanok whistled. "Man... half this place is toast. We really did a number on them, huh?"
Domain groaned, leaning on him. "Less talking. More... moving... please..."
Her shredded arm still dripped blood.
Avastma stopped walking.
Sephiss turned. "What is it?"
"I'm going back," Avastma said quietly.
Fanok scoffed. "Back? What for?"
"I sense something," she murmured. "Something powerful."
Sephiss narrowed his eyes. "I don't sense anything."
Domain hissed, "Neither do I, but you can't just wander off!"
Avastma didn't respond.
She simply turned and began walking in the opposite direction.
Domain leaned close to Sephiss. "Are we... just letting her leave?"
Sephiss shrugged. "Let her be. She is the second strongest of us."
Domain's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me? Second?"
Fanok laughed as they continued toward the Royal District.
But Avastma...
she walked alone.
And she followed the pulse of something ancient.
Something divine.
Something imaginative.
Braxill's Crossing
Braxill's feet skidded across the cracked stone as he reached the district's heart.
He stopped.
There...
standing in the open plaza...
as if waiting for him...
...was Avastma. However her face became full of youth.
Her crimson-red cape flowed in the scorched wind.
Her eyes glowed with calm, deadly understanding.
And Braxill's heart skipped.
He slid to a halt, ash swirling around him.
The two stared at one another.
"Did you..." his voice trembled, "...hurt my friends?"
No answer.
Just the slow rise of tension.
Then, a massive shadow appeared behind him.
Dragon Red materialized with a roar.
Braxill's eyes turned cold.
His grief sharpened.
His imagination trembled.
Avastma "So this is a visionary...?"
To be continued...