Kai stood frozen, a cold sweat clinging to his skin, each ragged breath burning in his lungs.
The world no longer made sense.
In front of him, the remains of his parents were horrifyingly displayed on rough wooden stakes, with the stakes piercing their bodies from bottom to top. Their skin was pale and drained, their eyes—his mother's warm, kind eyes—gone. Torn from their skulls, leaving only empty sockets. His father's chest had been carved open, a mockery of an execution, entrails hanging like grotesque decorations.
Small divine barriers kept them preserved, like display pieces.
A warning.
A message.
His stomach twisted violently.
Even in death, they had been used.
"This wasn't supposed to happen. This time was supposed to be different."
