Roro soared through the crimson skies, and scarlet rain began to pour down onto his feathers. It gave him the appearance of a calamity in the air — something that shouldn't exist here.
He was like an anomaly — a beauty that defied the cruel nature of the Hollow World.
The blood ran down his feathers like water against a window, the forever spiraling vortex shooting out those eye-catching halos that illuminated his path.
With a flap of his wings, Roro burst faster throughout the skies. In no time, he found himself at the other side of the state, his eyes scanning for Silas and his medic.
It didn't take long before he found the two. The usual lazy Silas dragged his body around as if he were numb, and a slender woman walked beside him.
She had shoulder-length hair, the tips of which were dyed an eye-catching light pink. Her steps were coordinated, unlike Silas's, but she had the same look of disdain on her face.
