Brunhilde ran.
She ran, her baby in her arms. She ran, not knowing if her husband and her son were still alive.
The organ harvesters had come out of nowhere. They had attacked, and no matter how strong Arnold was, how protective Brunhilde was, Michael had been snatched.
Arnold had not run away. He had chased after the woman who had taken their son and had chained him up.
Put a slave rune on him. Doomed him.
She hated herself for thinking like that. Hated how helpless she felt.
Brandon could save Michael! He could have saved them all…
But they had run, their little family of four. Abandoned Pan. Brunhilde did not hold a hope in her heart that Brandon would forgive that.
And yet, she ran.
Ran out of the barrier, she should have felt as she had walked inside of it. Her daughter being held close to her chest.
The teleportation rune took them away.
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