Yesterday, 02:21 PM
The Church was like a second home, Sasha still felt most comfortable among the rock and debris of the undercity. It was his home, it had been his home since coming to Moscow. And before that in the ruins of the CEZ, he felt like he belonged in those worlds -- old and broken and lost to civilization.
Sasha was still reeling from the woman who had attacked him. The way his hand lit up with fire, and her clothes ignited under his touch. It was the power of the shard. The world was clear and bright but now as he sat in the corner of the safe haven clutching the grotesque glass in his hand breathing deeply the world faded to the ugliness that Sasha knew it to be.
His heart raced in his chest, beating like a drum keeping time in a parade marching to war. He felt tired and broken. But Sasha closed his eyes and focused on his breathe and his heart trying to slow it to a normal pace, the shard in his hand clutched to his chest muttering softly to himself. "I'm okay. I'm okay."
1 minute. 10 minutes. An hour later, Sasha's body came to rest. His pulse returned to normal and he was chilled from the sweat covering his body. The cold tile of the floor and the stone walls did not offer any heat. Sasha went in search of something to warm himself by -- a fire that would burn into his soul. Something to warm him and calm the rest of his anxieties. He was feeling better, but he desired the heat and burn of the fire.
Sasha was still reeling from the woman who had attacked him. The way his hand lit up with fire, and her clothes ignited under his touch. It was the power of the shard. The world was clear and bright but now as he sat in the corner of the safe haven clutching the grotesque glass in his hand breathing deeply the world faded to the ugliness that Sasha knew it to be.
His heart raced in his chest, beating like a drum keeping time in a parade marching to war. He felt tired and broken. But Sasha closed his eyes and focused on his breathe and his heart trying to slow it to a normal pace, the shard in his hand clutched to his chest muttering softly to himself. "I'm okay. I'm okay."
1 minute. 10 minutes. An hour later, Sasha's body came to rest. His pulse returned to normal and he was chilled from the sweat covering his body. The cold tile of the floor and the stone walls did not offer any heat. Sasha went in search of something to warm himself by -- a fire that would burn into his soul. Something to warm him and calm the rest of his anxieties. He was feeling better, but he desired the heat and burn of the fire.