Sasha’s POV
The world narrowed to breath and blood and flame.
The battlefield vanished. The screams faded. Time unraveled into threads of ash and light.
There was no army.
No sky.
No ground.
Only him.
The Hollow King.
He moved through the inferno as if the fire bowed to him, coiling around his figure like a pet kept too long in chains. His robes were torn shadow, trailing smoke that seemed to whisper secrets from the grave. The ground withered where he walked—grass turning black, frost turning to rot. Ash coiled around his arms like living serpents, hissing with stolen magic.
I could barely hold the flame.
Not because it resisted—but because it wanted.
Wanted to rise. To destroy. To become everything I was not sure I could survive.
But I stood tall, heart pounding, lungs burni
