The skies of H'Trae, once painted in brilliant golds and soft blues, had turned black.
No stars remained. No sun rose. No birds sang. No winds moved.
Only silence.
Then came the fire.
Flames that had no color, but burned hotter than anything that could ever exist in the realm of reality and imagination.
They swept across the lands like an inferno born of damnation, devouring forests, mountains, cities, and oceans alike. Nothing resisted. Not the fortified temples of the Eastern Continent, nor the sacred archives within the Fairy Kingdom.
All fell.
Everything burned.
The screams of the world faded into smoke.
The corpses of deities, legends, warriors, leaders, commoners, and beasts littered the ashen ground, bones disintegrating into powder under the weight of cosmic fire. Everything alive was already gone. Now the world followed.
At the center of the dead world knelt Rey.
The wind did not touch him. The flames passed around him. Yet, he could not move.
