Andrew
Vang

It is 8:00 in the morning. Soft sunlight slips through gaps in the drifting clouds that fly across the sky. The wooden alarm dings. Sen is awakened by his clock, rolling over to silence it with a groggy hand. He looks out the window next to his bed. He takes a moment to absorb the sight in front of him: trees, grass, and warm light shining on the open blue sky painted by scattered clouds. After a moment of quiet reflection, Sen gets up and changes into a black sleeveless shir

Sen and Dain sit as a nurse channels a gentle blue glow over their wounds, mending the injuries in just a few minutes. By then, the Zagon’s body has completely dissolved, leaving no trace behind. A passing soldier drapes a white sheet over Ken’s corpse. The area is crowded with first responders, and those gifted with water-based Intergy work swiftly to douse the remaining flames. Sen : This is crazy. Ken’s dead. Dain : I know. I’m having a hard time taking in what just happen

Zarnem stands at a gravesite, his expression vacant. His gaze is fixed on the stone that bears the name “Penim,” his face a mask of emotionless detachment. Zarnem : Are we all here? Four other military leaders arrive. Ira, a brunette woman with a single streak of blue in her hair. Fex, a man with short black hair and piercing green eyes. Bayz, a nearly bald man. And Analee, an older woman with brown hair, now graying with age. Analee : Just waiting on you to pay your respects

The next morning, Sen and Dain were back at the military base, training as usual like they would at the Clyden Training Center. As they sparred, light and flames clashed, with both dodging and deflecting each other's strikes. After an intense session, they finished their practice and made their way to a nearby bench, wiping away sweat and sipping water to recover. Dain : Honestly, good stuff. Sen : Yeah, man. You too. Dain : Especially you. Your light is really unfolding. Sen

The next day. Sen, Dain, Yerah, Shera, Makota, Zarnem, Fex, Ira, and Virem sat quietly in a private room, waiting. Moments later, the door opened and in walked Esren, the Prime Minister of Clyden. Esren : Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your time and patience. Virem : Prime Minister Esren. Thank you for being here today. I have here Captain Zarnem. He has information regarding yesterday’s attack on our base. Esren looks to Zarnem as Zarnem steps forward. Zarnem : Good

Sen, Dain, Yerah, Shera, Makota, Zarnem, Fex, and Ira finished packing their essential supplies for the journey. They were already travelling, with Fex and Ira riding the horses pulling the two carts. The horses were equipped with shoes flowing with Intergy, allowing them to travel swiftly without tiring. Sen, Dain, and Zarnem rode in one cart, while Yerah, Makota, and Shera occupied the other. Yerah : So, how long have you two been together? Makota : For about six years now.

The heavy iron doors creak open. The crew is released from their cells, stepping out into the dimly lit corridors of Revano’s underground holding chambers. Their bodies are sore from captivity, but their minds are sharper than ever. Soldiers, emotionless and obedient, escort them toward the exit. At the courtyard, the crew moves quickly, packing food and water into their carts, readying for departure. The sound of shifting supplies and hushed movements fill the air, but no on

The sun hung high, drenching the earth in warmth as Arten made his way down the winding dirt path, his basket swaying gently with each step. The scent of ripe fruit and fresh poultry mixed with the crisp air, carrying traces of the wildflowers that lined the edges of the trail. It was a quiet day, the kind he had always enjoyed. The rustling of trees, the distant chirping of birds, the soft crunch of his boots against the packed soil— everything was as it should be. The villa

The world is vast, a realm of endless night where the only illumination comes from the scattered glow of countless moons and distant stars. The sky, a swirling abyss of deep darkness, stretches endlessly, giving the impression that the land itself is floating in endless space. Jagged rock formations rise from the cracked and barren earth, their edges illuminated by the pale light above. Zagons roam the landscape, their monstrous forms moving with a ghostly silence, some resti

The crew entered Troita under a pale, overcast sky, the air thick with the scent of dust and construction. The city stretched before them, a patchwork of old ruins and new foundations, evidence of a place desperately trying to rebuild itself. Crumbling buildings stood beside freshly constructed homes, their exteriors still raw and unpainted, the wood and stone barely holding the shape of civilization. Workers moved in clusters, carrying bricks, hammering beams into place, or

The midday sun cast long shadows over Troita, its light struggling to pierce through the smoke and dust lingering from past destruction. From their vantage point atop a crumbling tower, Penim and Mayzen stood, surveying the city below. Mayzen : Where’d you go? Penim : I was making my hybrids. Mayzen : You sure you didn’t go see Zarnem? Penim : If I could be in two places at once, I would. Mayzen : You’re lying. Penim : Wanna kill me and stick your veins into my brain? Mayzen

Beneath a sky littered with countless moons, the other world stretched endlessly in eerie silence. The cracked, dry earth sprawled in every direction, broken only by jagged stones and the resting forms of Zagons, their hulking silhouettes barely shifting in the dim glow. Near the center of this desolate expanse, Sicrus, Zan, Josar, Mayzen, and Scray sat near one another, some perched on weathered stones, others standing in quiet contemplation. The air between them was heavy,