Aion stepped cautiously into the dark and cold room, his senses heightened by the oppressive atmosphere that surrounded him. The air felt heavy with an eerie stillness, and a sense of foreboding hung in every corner. As he moved forward, his footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor, adding to the somber ambiance.
Aion's breath formed faint clouds of mist as he exhaled, his body reacting to the chilling temperature. He instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, seeking some semblance of warmth and comfort amidst the gloom. The walls exuded an icy touch, sending a chill down his spine and causing his skin to prickle with goosebumps.
Straining his eyes, Aion attempted to discern any details in the murky darkness. As his vision adjusted, he caught sight of faint outlines, suggesting the presence of ancient structures or forgotten artifacts. The room felt like a forgotten crypt, a place untouched by the passage of time.
"I was supposed to be in the dark dome… did the explosion caused by Grandma and Grandpa destroy it?" Aion thought while getting up and noticing that he was using his sleeping clothes. "It seems that I got home somehow… or Mother and those two found me."
Aion created fireballs to explore the area, and soon he found a staircase; he could sense some wind coming from it. He didn't recall having that kind of room in his house. Although he was feeling pretty fatigued, Aion began to climb the stairs… it has been so long that he even forgot that he could use wind magic to fly.
"Has it been so long?" Aion thought. "For how long did I sleep? My body isn't wounded, but it is pretty sore…"
Aion had to fly for a while before he found the staircase… it definitely was a secret base of some sort. A heavy iron door blocked his path, but that had been easy to unlock with his magic.
Aion cautiously stepped out of the hideout, his eyes widening in disbelief as he found himself standing in the heart of the capital of Zaera kingdom. Normally a bustling city, it now lay eerily empty, devoid of any signs of life. The once vibrant streets were strewn with debris and shattered remnants of buildings, bearing witness to a catastrophe that had taken place.
The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and lingering dust as if the remnants of destruction still hung in the atmosphere. Aion's footsteps echoed through the desolate streets, the sound reverberating off the crumbling walls and broken pavement. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional creaking of damaged structures and the distant howling of a mournful wind.
"The dark dome is no longer here… did that piece of shit bring it back to the present?" Aion thought while looking around. "What happened to everyone?"
Buildings stood as hollow shells, their windows shattered and facades crumbling. Tattered remnants of banners and flags fluttered listlessly in the breeze, bearing the scars of a battle fought long ago. Aion's gaze swept across the devastated cityscape, taking in the sight of toppled statues, broken bridges, and charred remnants of what were once bustling marketplaces.
The grass growing around wasn't tall, so no more than a month must have passed since he got unconscious… Aion felt that he only experienced two weeks' worth of memories in the dream, but maybe his sense of time deviated a fair bit.
"Where are you, Fenhair, Celion?" Aion thought, trying to talk with the giant elemental guardians that became his allies not so long ago. "... They aren't responding… I suppose those pieces of shit would have fought and killed them… I don't think that they would go down that easily, but."
Now that he thought about it, Aion wondered what their connection to the spirits… they had the same elements. Still, they lived in very different periods of time. Alongside that thought, Aion realized while his family had so much more talent for magic… it was because Cailena inherited Tenebres magic… maybe Siora's blood also became part of the family tree at some point, but it was hard to be sure.
"I need to check my old home," Aion thought, and then he felt a terrible shriver due to the pain. "My spirit really took some damage… maybe that is why I stayed sleeping for so long."
The pain that Aion felt surged through every fiber of his being, radiating from the site of many grave injuries that had been healed like a relentless storm. It was a searing, intense agony that seemed to consume his entire existence, eclipsing all other sensations and thoughts. Each heartbeat sent waves of pulsating torment through their body, reminding him of their fragile state.
With every breath he took, the pain intensified as if it were a malevolent force determined to remind him of their vulnerability. It gnawed at Aion's senses, disrupting his concentration and clouding their thoughts. The world around him became a blur now and then, distorted by the haze of suffering that enveloped his consciousness.
Aion stood amidst the ruins of his old hometown, the once bustling city now reduced to a desolate landscape of crumbling buildings and debris. The signs of chaos were evident everywhere as if the city had been abandoned in great haste.
His gaze turned towards the horizon, where the sun descended rapidly, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple. But there was something unnatural about its descent, as if time itself was in a hurry. The sun's rays seemed to stretch and warp, casting elongated shadows that danced eerily across the broken walls.
Aion's heart quickened as he realized that the sun was setting too fast, defying the natural rhythm of day and night. It was as if time itself had been disrupted, a disconcerting realization that sent shivers down his spine.
He hurriedly scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs or clues to explain this anomaly. The signs left by the people who had fled in haste caught his attention. Scribbled messages on walls, hastily discarded belongings, and abandoned vehicles all told a tale of panic and urgency. Whatever had driven the inhabitants to abandon their homes had done so with such swiftness that it left no time for contemplation or preparation.
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