When Jon opened his eyes earlier, he immediately knew something was off. The sharp smell of canvas, the faint chill of morning dew, and the filtered sunlight seeping through brown fabric. It was clear he was in a tent, not a building. His instincts flared. His enhanced senses already told him.
The matter of exhausting his last skill slot only made his mood worse than normal. So, after reading through Laura's memories, two things struck him the most.
Yes, people had died. Good men. Loyal soldiers. Comrades he had fought alongside and who had trusted him. Their loss weighed on him, but something else clutched tighter at his chest.
Jenny.
She had collapsed after summoning his reflection.
Jon couldn't even describe it properly. He had seen her summon, and what emerged had shocked even him. The ferocity, the wrath, it wasn't just a construct. It was a reflection. If her summon could be that violently protective, then what of Jon, the real source of that summoning connection?
