Tall buildings touched the sky, their architecture mesmerizing. The city was beautiful; it sprawled beneath an equally breathtaking sky of orange and gold.
"Did you hear? A fire behemoth attacked Lincs City, but it was defeated by Lady Vex of the Snow Guild."
"Yeah, I streamed the battle. It was so epic. Lady Vex was so beautiful."
The city pulsed with life—smiles, food vendors, and digital billboards casting golden reflections on the streets.
Then, the air shifted.
The temperature rose—not by much at first, just two or three degrees. Few noticed. But when it climbed another ten degrees, everyone felt it.
Confused murmurs spread. Why was it suddenly so hot?
Someone looked up.
"What's that in the sky?" he shouted, his voice rising above the crowd. People followed his gaze and saw a streak of light. It would have been beautiful—if it hadn't started growing larger, headed straight toward the city, and heating the air even more.
"It's heading this way! RUN!"
Panic erupted. People scattered, bumping into each other, and some fell, crushed under the stampede.
With every second, the streak grew bigger, glowing brighter, and descending faster.
BOOOOOOOOMMMMM!
It collided with a massive skyscraper.
The impact was catastrophic. Like a nuclear blast, a searing sphere of heat expanded outward, vaporizing everything in its path. People screamed as they ran, but the superheated air overtook them. Skin turned liquid and blood boiled inside bodies, eventually drying and turning to ash.
Buildings crumbled. Chunks of molten stone rained from the sky, crushing whatever still moved.
The burning wave finally slowed, stopping four kilometers from the point of impact. But the shockwaves continued, tearing through the outskirts and leveling everything in their path.
At the heart of the destruction, deep booms echoed. Flashes of light pierced the dust cloud just as the sonic shockwaves cleared the air.
The landscape was unrecognizable. The once pristine city had become a scorched wasteland. Chunks of shattered stone lay everywhere, some still glowing, partially melted into magma.
Yet amidst the devastation, a few people stirred—survivors.
Some were severely wounded, others lightly injured, a few trapped beneath rubble. These were the elite—those whose bodies could endure the heat, even if not unscathed.
A man pushed a melting boulder off his body, wincing as he stood up.
He looked around, spotting others rising to their feet. He recognized some—people he'd fought beside before.
Limping forward, he helped those he could until he reached the source of the explosion and stopped.
His face went pale, and his eyes widened.
"This is Eminent Ross, stationed at Zephyr City," he said aloud, speaking into the air. "The city has been destroyed. Requesting immediate assistance from the Snow Guild to neutralize the threat. It's being engaged by Paragon Quinn, but he's being overwhelmed."
He paused, then added grimly, "I'll move in to support him, but I can't do much against something of this level. Send help. May the Gods help us."
Light gathered around him—shimmering, pulsing—before shooting off into the sky like a flare.
Ross looked ahead.
"Let's do this," he muttered—and leapt into battle.