Abras stood motionless.
Around him was chaos—the discord of screams and panic.
He could attempt to organize the people, help them flee effectively to save as many lives as possible, but the descent of the Black Rift taught him that the primal instinct to survive would always prevail in a situation such as this.
Nobody would listen to him.
It was true that he was their leader, but he was no general or a respected hero.
His voice is not loud enough to overtake the survival instinct.
Even so, it doesn't mean he was abandoning his people.
On the contrary, he will help them, do something, no matter how small the impact may be.
Abras leaped off the monolith, toward the charging monstrosity.
His body trembled as he passed through the barrier, landing outside beyond its safety, swallowed by the darkness of the Black Rift. Danger pressed in from all sides, and the pressure coming from ahead was enormous, yet he didn't flinch.
