***
{Outside The Projection}
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The silence was unbearable.
They've long been quiet, watching the battle unfold...
Cowards running, mortal women fighting, guards dying, bandits screaming.
Malik's skills, Malik's fire, Malik's madness, Malik's rage... His rage. Oh, his rage.
All of it born from a child's naivety. From Ali Baba's fall. From the loss of his leader—a father.
But this? This end? What the actual fuck had they just witnessed?
What kind of death was that?... People could die like that? What?
It was ridiculous. Almost unnecessary. Because why?... Why?
They'd asked that question a hundred times before, but...
This—this—this 'why' ranked above them all.
Shit didn't even compare.
"Oh, God, I think I'm gonna be sick."
A murmur broke through the stillness.
"His arms—his legs—they fucking—oh, God—"
Then another.
"Someone cut the feed, I can't watch this..."
Then another.
