With one last look at his people, Strax spread his wings—long, black as a moonless night, marked with scarlet veins that pulsed as if carrying living blood. The wind blew stronger, as if the world itself held its breath as it watched him rise.
And then, with a powerful flap of his wings, he shot toward the sky.
The ground shook under the impact, dust and embers swirled around him as he disappeared into the clouds at high speed, leaving only a trail of heat and silence behind him.
The journey was quick, of course, Strax's current speed was almost sonic, he could travel very fast in his human form.
The sky above Vorah Manor was clear—too clear. No sign of smoke, no screams, no movement. The contrast with the chaos left behind was brutal, almost insulting.
Strax hovered for a moment above the property.
