Evaporated air flew across the dungeon and drifted toward Leon, raising the strand of hair plastered to his forehead.
The fiery glow in the war disc began to dim, but the heat evaporating from it didn't stop.
Leon remained in the kneeling posture, staring at the surface of the liquid fire. "Why do I always have to watch them die?"
He shifted his gaze to his palms, then back at the Starfire Opal ceiling of the dungeon. "WHY! AM I NOT WORTHY ENOUGH TO SAVE THEM? TELL ME!"
When his scream died, Leon's head lowered as if the bones in his neck had been chopped off. Sharp air gushed out of his nose and mouth while staring at the heated war disc, which had now turned dark, then closed his eyes.
An Lang's smiling face flashed into his mind before he could think of him. The smile and the jokes An Lang had been making stayed a little longer before fading off when Leon cracked his eyes open.
