[color=gold] Ezekiel [@Helo], Scratch / Vallena [@Apex Sunburn], Callandra [@princess][hr]

[h3]They move like wraiths, cutting through the smoke with a silence that screams louder than any noise could.

One flickers into view with a hiss of displaced air, appearing atop a crate for the briefest moment before vanishing again. With each flicker, she draws closer to Scaerthrynne, teleporting from one stack of wreckage to the next. Her twin blades gleam in the haze, each step a whisper of intent. No footsteps. No sound. Just the sharp scent of ozone and the low hum of magic clinging to her like a second skin. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t rush. Her gaze is fixed on him ...a predator watching, observing, threatening with her presence, and waiting to strike until the perfect moment.

Another walks through the debris-strewn aisle like a priest at a funeral. Their hand dances with smoke and magic, eyes unseen beneath a blood-red hood, mouth muttering words you can’t quite hear until they are in your bones. But then ...they stop. A sudden stillness overtakes them, and they drop to one knee, fingers etching sigils into the floor with liquid fire. Magic begins to pool in the air around them, warping the space with heat and pressure, building toward something unknown.

The third steps forward with slow inevitability, dragging a brutal sickle along the metal floor. Sparks bloom with every step, and with each spark, you swear you see glimpses of your worst mistakes reflected in the gleam. They come for Ezekiel, eyes locked, movements steady. This one does not linger, instead they approach like the ending of a sentence ...already written, already brought to an end.

You all have time to take action. What do you do?[/h3][/color]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/TNnkAql.png[/img]