The scene felt surreal to witness, though Jett took himself away from it quickly, remembering the slow-falling people that were all but about to crash down.
"Shit!--"
"Allow me to lend a hand."
Arriving beside the reincarnator was another familiar face: a princely man with silken, black hair and scaled, gold armor drew his bow back, gliding the glimmering string back before launching an arrow forged of emerald light into the sky.
"Tristan–?" Jett asked, perplexed by what the paladin planned.
As the projectile reached the center of the sky, it burst into light, expanding into a physical form through unending branches. A sight of unmatched growth; wooden limbs curled and reached out, catching the falling citizens and providing beds of leaves for them to fall upon.
Within a mere few seconds, a colossal, welcoming tree had birthed itself into the chaotic environment.
