Vonjo crouched behind a shattered pillar on the third floor of the crumbling apartment complex, sweat trickling down his jawline, heart pounding like war drums in his chest.
His bow—an obsidian longbow laced with silver etchings and blood-red runes—hummed with raw energy, alive in his grip.
Wind howled through broken windows, lifting dust and sand into miniature storms. Shadows danced across the broken tiles and fragmented walls as the battle raged on in the confined, decaying building.
"HEY, OLD DUSTBAG!" Vonjo shouted with manic glee, standing just long enough for a silhouette to appear in the corner of a window before disappearing again with a rapid twang of his bowstring. "What's the matter? Can't take a few shots from the Era's best archer?! You dodging on reflex or fear?! Maybe both, huh?!"
The arrow tore through the air, sharp and searing, exploding against the far wall with a radiant flash that sent a wave of shock through the hallway.
