"WHAT IS THAT THING AND WHY DID IT ONLY LAUGHED UPON SEEING ME? WHY AM I IN A DESERT?"
As the Tower Master's hands trembled, he read the words etched in blood, desperation and hopelessness dripping from each line. The mage's initial confusion now gave way to grim realization:
"THAT THING WAS UNDEFEATABLE. I DIDN'T EVEN MANAGE TO GET A LOOK AT THE FULL FORM OF THAT THING. JUST HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO DEFEAT IT."
"I GAVE IT MY ALL, EVERY SINGLE SPELL I KNEW, YET EVERYTHING DISAPPEARED WITHIN A MOMENT."
"WHAT IS THAT THING? A GOD. TO ME THAT BEING LOOKED LIKE…"
The abrupt ending of the sentence hung heavy on the page, leaving a foreboding void. The Tower Master's gaze shifted down to the next few words—or rather, where words had once been.
Amid the shredded remnants of his writing, the Tower Master noticed a broken fingernail lodged between the pages. Nobody could understand what was on the mind of the mage as he scratched the paper till even his finger nail's broke.
