"Emrys is dead?"
"How is that possible?"
"How did he die?"
"Who killed him?"
The questions spilled forth like an avalanche, threatening to smother Lugh beneath their icy weight.
He stood still, contemplative. Answering the next part wouldn't be easy.
"I was the one who landed the final blow,"
Je said quietly.
"But by then, he was already weakened from the collapse."
"The collapse?"
They all paused, the word hanging like smoke in the air.
"And what caused this collapse?"
Selaphiel pressed, her gaze sharp and unrelenting.
"I... don't know,"
Lugh admitted. His voice was calm, but there was a flicker of something deeper—guilt, maybe, or something colder.
"All I know is that everything was normal one moment, and the next, the whole city sank. I lost consciousness. I don't remember much of what happened after that."
He exhaled slowly.
"Survival was based on pure luck. I got lucky. Emrys didn't."
