Grief twisted into rage. Rage twisted into power.
Kiran's body glowed with crimson light as his magic erupted. The ground cracked beneath his feet, flames roared around him. He became something more than human—something monstrous.
He struck down the enemies who lingered, his sword blazing with fire, his spells tearing through the night. But it was meaningless. His people were already gone.
That night, he dug graves until his hands bled. He buried his people, one by one, until the land itself became a graveyard.
When the last grave was filled, he fell to his knees. "I couldn't save you," he whispered. "I couldn't save anyone."
The thought of ending his own life crept into his mind. Perhaps death was the only escape.