Days had pasted. Every night I woke up screaming without someone to comfort me. Every day supplies from around the world arrived but what do they do for the death ? Nothing. Our leader had promised revenge and rebuild but so far nothing has happened. 

Most of the time, I was trying to distract Anna from everything.
We made silly games out of nothing — a spoon became a dragon, a blanket our enchanted shield. We built castles from stones and drew smiley faces on leaves. I laughed when she laughed, because if I didn't, I'd break.Every night I'd braid her hair with trembling hands, her sleepy eyes blinking up at me like I was still whole. Like I was still her sister, not whatever ghost had taken my place. She didn't know that after she fell asleep, I sat by the window, staring at the burned skyline, waiting for something — anything — to make me feel again.

And then came the day that will be written in history books. As a start of the last battle. But no one new. How could we have known? And so I played with Anna when the ground beneath our feet began to shake again. When smoke returned and smell of death , debris's  and fire became stronger. I should have known what to do next but I didn't. All I could think of was Anna. I shielded her with mine from falling stones, fireballs and whatever else was there. I couldn't loose her. I had never been in so much physical pain but I would rather die then let go of her. And then within all the chaos there was a voice.  Clear , sharp and cruel. 

All not worthy shall die today. And those lucky enough to survive will be ours. 

When the words ended there was a lightning strike. Anna begann to shake in my hands. He whole body shook like it was fighting a invisible battle inside of itself. She slipped out of my hands twitching on the cold concrete.Anna shook, her body trembling like something inside was tearing her apart. Her skin darkened, her eyes glowed, and then she slipped from my grasp, twitching on the cold concrete. I screamed her name, begged her to come back, but she didn't move. I reached for my power — forced myself to lower the barrier — but nothing came. No strength. No light. Only the voices. Thousands of them. Screams, cries, prayers, the last breaths of people dying across the city. It hit me like a wave, suffocating, deafening, unstoppable. I collapsed beside her, gasping, as Anna lay still and small, her chest unmoving, her fingers cold in mine. And through all the voices in my head, hers was gone. 

No, no—it couldn't be. She had to be fine. She couldn't be dead. Ignoring the voices, the alarm bells in my mind, I shattered the barrier. Everything I had locked away surged free at once—grief, rage, power—but I didn't care. My shaking hands pressed against Anna's chest, and golden strings of light snapped from the air, pouring into her. The glow became blinding, a storm of magic I could barely contain. It burned, tore through my body like wildfire, and I screamed as the power ripped at my skin, split it open at my shoulder and down my side, branding me with a scar that would never fade. I didn't stop. I couldn't. Blood dripped from my chin, and my legs gave out beneath me, but I clung to her, desperate. Still—Anna didn't move. Not a breath, not a sound. Just the silence of a girl already gone.