Ostarius
The words hung in the air like frost—
unspoken shock freezing the room in place.
Aurora stood at the center, cloak still dusted from the broken world they had returned from, eyes distant, like they were still staring into that empty sky. Her voice was steady, but the edge of disbelief still clung to every word.
"They're gone," she said again. "All of them."
Alfred's fist slammed into the wall. A loud crack followed, shards of stone falling to the floor.
"What do you mean by gone?!" he shouted.
He wasn't asking. He was demanding the world to give him a better answer. One that didn't exist.
Aurora didn't flinch. She just stared at him—haunted. "I mean the faction. Our people. The cities, the outposts, the defenses, everything we built back in our original universe… It's like they were never there."
There was silence.
Cold.
Heavy.
Even the walls of Ostarius seemed to pull tighter, holding its breath with the rest of them.
