[???]
"I could go for some chocolate right about now,"
The idle musing escaped Mikoto's lips.
He sat there—slouched rather ungracefully—his petite frame nested against the fractured edge of a half-destroyed boulder that had long since cooled from whatever blast had sheared it in half. The gauntlets of one arm loosely hung over a knee, the other resting just beside the form of Sabre, who lay next to him.
Mikoto's expression was unreadable—his eyes drifted lazily skyward toward a expanse smeared in dull gray. There was no sun, no moon, no stars. Just oppressive cloud cover and the distant flashes of mana detonations booming.
Another tremor rattled the brittle ground beneath him, followed immediately by the deafening ripple of mana combusting far off on the horizon. The air stung—rich mana, thick enough to chew.
Lyra and Aelfric.
They were still at it. That violent battle had been echoing for some time now.
