Standing in the ruins of the alliance stronghold and trying to process that we'd been gone three months while experiencing thirty subjective years was doing things to my sense of reality that probably weren't healthy, but honestly after being sealed in a prison fighting primordial darkness my baseline for healthy was pretty warped.
The pack house was—gone. Just gone. Burned to foundations. The training yard was a crater. The medical building had collapsed. Bodies everywhere.
So many bodies.
"How many?" My voice came out hoarse and I wasn't sure if that was from screaming while we broke the prison or from the dimensional transition or from seeing this.
