It's All My Fault

Asher soared through the darkened skies, his body wreathed in a faint glow of dark green mana, pushing himself to move faster than he ever had before. 

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a deafening drum of urgency. He had to make it back. 

He had to fix whatever had gone wrong. But as he drew closer, an ominous sensation settled deep in his bones—a chilling, suffocating presence that made his stomach twist into knots.

Then, he saw it.

A thick wall of black smoke rose in the distance, choking the horizon. The deeper he flew, the more the scent of burning flesh and charred ruins filled his nostrils. The air was thick with death, heavy with something far worse than just devastation. It was finality.

His breath hitched. No.

A raw, gnawing panic clawed at his chest as he descended toward the nearest cliffside, his fingers trembling at his sides.

The moment his feet touched the ground, his legs gave out.