Chapter 63: Different
Dune scanned his surroundings. The forest stretched endlessly around him, cold and blanketed in a shimmering layer of snow. The air was sharp and biting. Tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword, he looked around cautiously.
Suddenly, a burst of fiery red light illuminated the trees, and a figure fell through the flames, landing heavily in the snow.
"Atlas!" Dune called, rushing forward without hesitation. He crouched, grabbing Atlas by the arm and helping him to his feet.
"So? How did it go?" Dune asked, his voice edged with urgency.
Atlas brushed off the snow clinging to his cloak and exhaled a visible breath into the cold air. "I was chosen by Orochid," he said, his tone both grim and resolute. "He's the god of Malice."
Dune's eyes narrowed as he processed the words. "I see," he muttered before rising to his feet. He sheathed his sword with a determined motion. "Come on. We've got to find Ned. He was stabbed in Fein, he's gotta be there by now."
Atlas nodded, adjusting the strap of his weapon. "Alright, let's go." Without another word, the two of them sprinted through the forest, their footprints vanishing in the falling snow as they moved toward the unknown.
[ Fein ]
Ned groaned as his eyes flickered open. He lay sprawled on the ground, surrounded by destruction. What was left of the city around him was unrecognizable, buildings were reduced to smoldering ruins, and some appeared to have simply vanished, leaving empty craters in their wake. The stench of smoke and fire hung thick in the air, mixing with the metallic smell of blood.
He sat up, disoriented, and felt the prickling sensation of being watched. His gaze darted across the rubble until it caught a faint blue glow in the distance.
Ned's heartbeat quickened as he climbed to his feet. He jogged toward the glow, navigating the shattered remains of buildings. The closer he got, the worse the destruction became. Whatever had happened here, it was violent and recent.