Last night, Elana could not sleep.
Each time she closed her eyes, fragments of a distant past surfaced. Faces of people kneeling in worship. Others dying in her name. Some trembling in fear at the mere thought of her presence. Yet deep down, she knew they were not bowing to her.
They were revering the one whose memories she was witnessing.
She could not tell where she was or even what she truly was in those visions. But the mind she had intruded upon belonged to someone with overwhelming influence among the Acolytes, at least that was the closest term she could find to describe them.
All night, she watched them perish.
Golden light rained from the heavens like shards of judgment, descending upon the Acolytes and erasing them without mercy. Their bodies dissolved. Their existence was wiped away as if they had never been born.
And through it all, she sat high above the chaos, observing the destruction with an unflinching gaze.
