As the Phoenix breathed its final, a deafening, earth-shattering screech reverberated through the heavens, causing the very ground beneath to quake in its wake.
The Phoenix had fallen.
The Specters, their gazes fixed upon the representative of the Phoenix race, awaited some form of response.
At the very least, they anticipated a reaction from Serenelle's parents, an acknowledgment, a flicker of grief.
But what they encountered was nothing short of unnerving.
Neither the father nor the mother moved, their expressions as impassive as stone.
There was no sign of sorrow, no tremor of emotion.
It was as if their daughter's demise had been a mere whisper in the winds of fate, entirely inconsequential to them.
As the anguished screech finally faded, Serenelle's form began to disintegrate before their eyes, her body crumbling into ash, as if the very essence of her existence had been severed from the fabric of the world.
