Atticus appeared in a wasteland of rust and ash.
The skies were a mixture of blue and white clouds, and the golden rays of the sun shone down with intensity. However, Atticus felt as though the world was gray.
For hundreds of kilometers, all he saw were scattered remains, with broken weapons and ruined banners.
It looked like a war had been fought between two great nations here, one where an uncountable number of lives had been lost.
Atticus tore his gaze away as he saw that there were no immediate threats.
He glanced at his champions. They were all here, eyes cautiously scanning the space and demeanors calm. They met his gaze with a reassuring nod.
Atticus focused on himself next, and as usual, nothing was suppressed. He was glad about that.
"We wait?" Zenon asked after a moment.
"We wait," Atticus responded.
And so, the group waited as per usual, for the rules to be announced, so they knew what exactly they were to do.
The voice came after some seconds.
