"Zakar!!!"
The thick, commanding voice split through the burning air of the ruined chamber.
Zakar's blade froze an inch above Caslurk's skull. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, sweat and soot staining his face. Slowly, he blinked and turned his head toward the sound.
That voice was familiar. Familiar enough to make his heart skip.
"..."
From the other side of the rift, a figure stepped through the haze; broad shoulders, sharp eyes glowing with authority. Smoke trailed from his body as though the battlefield itself was his own.
General Lemon.
"General Lemon?" Zakar muttered, his voice rough with disbelief. He had expected attention from the chaos of his duel, but he had not expected General Lemon to be this close. This was absurd. And it was then that he noticed...
Behind the general stumbled another figure Justin. His body was wrecked, bruised and bloodied, his steps weak but his eyes alive.
