The oppressive silence that had gripped Serafina's room began to crack as Eleanor, her voice laced with concern, broke the tension. "Serafina," she began, leaning closer to the still-shaken seer, "tell us what you truly saw in your vision. What do they mean?"
Serafina, her breathing still ragged, closed her eyes for a moment, willing the chaotic kaleidoscope of visions to coalesce into something coherent. Images flickered behind her eyelids, the monstrous Onis, their eyes burning with a malevolent hunger, the decimated ranks of werewolves, the desolate wasteland devoid of magic.
Opening her eyes again, a haunted look crossed her features. "I see… destruction," she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "The Onis coalesced into a single, horrifying form. They consume, and devour magic itself. They see it as a stain, a corruption, and they aim to cleanse the town, leaving only a barren shell behind."
