(I'm sorry for the decrease in responses! My schoolwork has gotten really intense and I needed to focus on it first.)
Lazare lounged in their chair, only half paying attention. After what seemed like hours of godly chatter– it was probably only an hour, but it sure felt like more– Lazare's eyes started to get heavy. It seemed that they could get bored to sleep after all. Even if it was about Emilia, it was also about saving the world. They were only invested in one of those things, and none of the gods threw in the words "Emilia", "Crin", or "magic skull" nearly enough for them to keep awake. Their eyes closed, and they drifted into that weird world of things that could either be dreams or actual events. Lazare could never figure out which one was which. For now, they had no clue, and it took to much energy to figure it out.
Lazare was standing in a meadow of some sort at sundown. The grass swaying around them caught the last golden rays of the sun, making it shine. The sky was painted in all sorts of beautiful colors, red and orange and pink splashed across the horizon. A strange crackling sound caught their attention, and Lazare turned around. The meadow they were standing in was at the edge of a mountain. Everything below that meadow was on fire. The trees flamed like torches, pinecones exploding, and sparks flying up towards the endless sky. There was a city below them as well, but not one that Lazare recognized. It too was on fire– no, not only on fire. Utterly destroyed. Buildings were leveled, the fires burning so hot there was a haze of heat over the city. And standing at the edge of the destruction was Crin, holding a pale skull in her hand. She smiled, and the world around Lazare erupted into flames.