Jean stared at her hands. They were still glowing faintly.
But there was no warmth in them now.
Only silence.
Only loss.
"I killed her…" she whispered, voice trembling. "I killed my own mother…"
Her legs shook as she tried to stand. The ground beneath her felt far away, like she was floating through a nightmare.
The villagers didn't speak. They watched in stunned silence.
Some were scared. Others wept quietly. A few Flame Beasts whimpered near the broken huts.
Jean's heart felt like it had been torn apart. Her chest ached. Her throat burned with every breath.
"I didn't want this…"
"I didn't ask for this power…"
Tears streamed down her face as her body slowly backed away from the ruined center of the village.
Her hands covered her face.
Her voice broke as she screamed, "I didn't want to hurt anyone!"
And then—without waiting—she turned.
And she ran.
Ran barefoot through the broken gates, past the scorched ground and sleeping beasts.
