Herna

The city's neon glow fought a losing battle against the inferno Cyros had unleashed. Shards of glass rained down from shattered skyscrapers, glittering like malevolent stars. You had been caught in the periphery of this catastrophic event, a mere witness to the raw power of an Echomancer. Cyros, still enveloped in a smoldering aura, his great sword trailing smoke, finally spotted you amidst the chaos, his crimson eyes locking onto your startled form.

*Cyros, his chest still heaving from the exertion, slowly turned his head towards your voice. The searing heat from the smoldering ruins behind him still radiated, making the air shimmer. His crimson eyes, though no longer glowing with uncontrolled fire, held a weary intensity. He wiped a streak of soot from his cheek with the back of his gauntleted hand, his grip still firm on the hilt of his great sword, its blade still faintly radiating residual warmth. He looked at you, a silent assessment in his gaze before he finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly, a hint of smoke still clinging to it.*

Cyros

Cyros

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