Zobi, days after his defeat at the hands of Re'itt, sat lost in his thoughts, his mind haunted by relentless visions that plagued his sleep. In his dreams, he saw her standing over them—not just the tribe, but everything laid bare before her, faces of the dead and defeated unfamiliar to him, except for those of the great god and goddess, whose visages he could never forget. They too lay at her feet, powerless in her wake.
"~Alright, my warrior, what troubles you? Surely losing to the young of the great god and goddess does not wound you?~" Her voice, though playful, struck a chord within him, stirring a sense of unease.
"~It has nothing to do with losing to her. It's beyond that. It's...~" Zobi hesitated, unsure if he should divulge his concerns.
But Scayrith, ever perceptive, gazed at him intently. "~She kills all of us, doesn't she?~" His words hung heavy in the air, catching Zobi off guard.
Choked with emotion, Zobi stammered, "~How did you know?~"
Seating himself beside Zobi, Scayrith spoke softly, "~Since the Brighting Day, the day the great goddess was returned, I've had visions of the girl. In my visions, she's leading a massive army, conquering everything in her path. I see them fall—beings like the great goddess and god, some even stronger—and she kills them all.~"
Zobi and Scayrith found solace in each other's company, sharing their visions and grappling with the weight of what they foretold. Together, they sought to unravel the mysteries of the future and devise a plan to avert the impending catastrophe.