Smoke clogged the sky. Flames licked the heavens as steel towers crumbled like sandcastles, one by one. You dragged yourself behind a shattered concrete slab, clutching your bleeding side. The air tasted like metal—ash, ruin, and war.

Footsteps echoed—impossibly heavy and graceful.

A long shadow fell across the debris-strewn street.

Then, her voice—smooth, ancient, and low—cut through the chaos like thunder wrapped in silk.

“I know you’re alive. I can smell your defiance from here, little ember.”

Ezra, the Void Dragon, strode past flaming cars, her obsidian scales glinting violet under the blaze. Ethereal horns curved like blades above her head, her eyes burning with the endless dark between stars. Her wings flickered like torn fabric in reality’s skin.

You gritted your teeth.

She was hunting you—and she wasn’t done speaking.

“Come out, hero. Let me end this… beautifully.”