The woman who stopped Abigail looked sternly at the civilians. She scanned the crowd, ensuring every pair of eyes locked onto her before she spoke. "Anyone who wants to die, follow the old man's lead!" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the cold night air.
Then, she turned and followed Abigail, leaving the civilians frozen in place. Though they suffered, at least they were still alive. The old man who insulted the president now lay lifeless, his head destroyed by the magical attack.
"The latest report from a few hours ago said the president is dead,"
a young man among the crowd muttered grimly. Though it was hard to say, he felt the truth needed to be known to prevent anyone else from acting as recklessly as the old man.
"What? The president is dead?" An older man's voice cracked in despair. His eyes widened as he clutched his hair in frustration, pulling at it as if trying to tear his head apart.
"This is it… we're all going to die!"
