Strax remained silent for a few moments, observing the corrupted sky, the ruined streets, the empty eyes of the children. Something was growing inside him. It wasn't just anger. It was a certainty—a flame igniting in the depths of his being, ancient and inevitable.
He closed his eyes.
He felt the pulse of the world. The imbalance in the magical lines. The open wounds not only in the people, but in the very essence of the city.
Then he spoke, to himself, in a whisper laden with decision:
"Enough."
Cristine and Yennifer turned when they heard him. But there was no longer any human expression on his face—only absolute focus.
"Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice as firm as living stone.
Cristine's eyes widened. "Strax, what are you going to—?"
But he had already begun.
The ground shook.
The air became heavy as liquid lead.
