The battlefield was shifting.
Silence again swept across the shattered Cenotaph Wild Lands as it was filled with awe!
Achilles' cry of "No regrets!" echoed like a sovereign's thunder, shaking even the clouds above.
His voice rippled through the fractured havens and reached deep into the souls of every Ancient One watching him.
They stood tall, proud, terrible. Yet none answered.
Not a roar. Not a word. Only quiet and wary.
And it was Solmyron who broke that silence, his tone somber as he hovered near Selamira.
"…Have you seen enough yet?" he asked, golden feathers fluttering in the fading turbulence. His phoenix wings trembled with restrained fire, but his voice remained grounded.
Selamira did not answer immediately. Her arms folded, one hand tapping rhythmically against her elbow.
Her eyes were analytical and unblinking.
