Unia: Echo of Harmony

Night of the Departed Souls: More to Depart. Act 2

Outside, the night air was rent by a powerful shock wave, a thunderous roar that surged through the village like an angry beast unleashed. It mingled with the screams of the terrified, a cacophony of fear and confusion that echoed off the crumbling walls. As the ground shuddered under the force of the explosion, a thick cloud of dust billowed up, obscuring sight and smothering the cries for help. The crowd that had gathered, seeking solace in numbers, was scattered like leaves in a storm. Men, women, and children were thrown asunder, their forms disappearing into the swirling maelstrom of debris and despair that swept through the narrow streets, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake.

Beneath the cruel debris of what once was a sanctuary of warmth and laughter, Tabitha found herself ensnared by the remnants of catastrophe. The fragment, a cruel vestige of the building's former glory, pressed mercilessly against her frame, pinning her to the cold, unforgiving earth. Each breath was a battle, the weight crushing the air from her lungs, threatening to seal her fate beneath this makeshift tomb.

Yet in the scant light, a slender thread of hope shimmered faintly within reach. Fueled by a surge of desperate strength, Tabitha's face twisted into a grimace of resolve as she stretched her battered limbs toward the elusive promise of release. Her fingers, driven by the raw instinct of survival, strained toward the thread, each small advance a hard-won battle in her personal war against the suffocating despair.

As the mass above her groaned ominously, sinister creaks echoed around her, whispering threats of imminent collapse, and pain surged through Tabitha's frame. Yet, this pain steeled her resolve rather than quenching it. Emitting a guttural roar, more primal and profound than any form of speech, she reached with all her might, her fingertips finally grazing the salvation she so fervently sought.

Tabitha's will infused the soil through the slender thread, and it heeded her call. Softening like the flesh of ripe fruit, the earth beside the druidess relented and began to swallow the debris that had crushed her moments before. Gradually, the oppressive weight rolled off her battered body, sinking into the forgiving soil as if drawn down by unseen hands, and finally, the heavy object was entirely consumed by the ground.

Finally freed from captivity, Tabitha struggled to her knees. Gasping for breath, she swept her eyes across the ruins where Raquel's home and the neighboring houses once stood. What had been a vibrant stretch of the village, alive with the buzz of community and warmth, was now reduced to a scattered array of debris along the lane.

Upon the wreckage, a colossal bird, one of the monstrous combatants from the sky, writhed in agony. Each convulsion of its immense form sent waves of dust and debris cascading through the air, shrouding the vulnerable figures below in a grim veil of ruin.

Survivors, their faces canvases of fear and shock, moved like shadows through the debris. Some knelt in the wreckage, their bodies curved in sorrow beside the broken, as they tenderly caressed the lifeless hands of loved ones, murmuring soft words of farewell into the stillness. Others stood with faces turned skyward, their eyes glistening with a sense of betrayal, their prayers floating futilely into the indifferent sky.

Nearby, lay the lifeless form of Luis, a village man, impaled grotesquely against a shattered post, his stillness a stark contrast to the chaos around him. The one who sought safety in the presence of a prophetess now frozen in an eternal silence.

The piercing cries of a woman sliced through the turmoil, drawing Tabitha's gaze to a figure navigating the labyrinth of destruction. A woman clutched her child's distorted figure, navigating through the twisted remains with cautious steps. Her cries are a haunting melody that intertwined with the groans of the wounded and the silent screams of the dead scattered around.