After that unsettling smile vanished from her face, she spoke again, her tone light and teasing, yet with an edge that set my nerves on edge.
"Didn't I say when we first t that I found you interesting? Or..." Her lips curved into a smirk, her deep blue eyes sparkling with a faint, mischievous glint. "Do you want to say it again, this ti with a little more passion?"
Her words carried a strange familiarity, almost reminding of Celia... but I brushed the thought aside quickly. This wasn't Celia, no matter how much her face and mannerisms tried to mimic her.
"There's no need," I replied curtly, keeping my tone as even as possible. "Give a few minutes to think."
She inclined her head in acknowledgnt, her smile never faltering. Then, without a word or movent, her form seed to dissolve, as if the very fabric of her existence unraveled. One mont she was there, and the next, the space where she stood was void, as though she had never been there at all.
I was left alone.
My thoughts churned, chaotic and unrelenting.
I don't trust her.
Her words, her deanor.. everything about her scread danger. She was too enigmatic, too powerful, too... deliberate. Yet, despite my misgivings, sothing about her lingered, her presence haunting even in her absence.
Why would she tell about Team 4 being possessed by the Lords of Teka? And besides she could kill at anyti but she didn't...
My brow furrowed as I rubbed my temples, the strain of thinking making my head ache. I replayed her words over and over, searching for cracks, for answers hidden in the folds of her cryptic tale.
This world... Echoes of Agony... it's darker and more twisted than I ever imagined. I should've read more Chapters, learned more about what I'm dealing with. Maybe then I'd have so sort of plan, so understanding.
The thought gnawed at . But there was no use lanting what I didn't know. What mattered now was what lay ahead... and the decision I had to make.
Finally, I exhaled deeply and spoke aloud, "I've decided."
As if summoned by my voice, she reappeared, her figure materializing like a mirage solidifying into reality. Her expression was expectant, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"What's your decision?" she asked, though she tilted her head slightly, her tone carrying a hint of amusent. "Oh, wait... don't tell . I already know. You've agreed, haven't you?"
I sighed, shaking my head at her smugness. "Don't go assuming you know ," I said, my tone firm.
Without waiting for her response, I stepped forward, closing the distance between us until we both stood side by side. Our eyes fixed on the towering palace ahead. The air around it was thick with foreboding, the scent of iron and decay wafting from the blood-soaked mud that sprawled across the land. Above, the sky rumbled with the clash of multicolored lightning... red, yellow, white... illuminating the palace's jagged silhouette.
I started descending the hill, each step sinking into the viscous, dark sludge beneath . It wasn't a river, not truly, but a stretch of mud so dense and saturated with blood it seed alive, pulsating faintly with every crackle of lightning.
Behind , her voice rang out, a warning that cut through the oppressive silence.
"Be careful of the Roar," she said, her tone carrying an odd mix of concern and amusent. "And whatever you do... don't look it in the eyes."
I didn't turn around. "Noted," I muttered under my breath, though her words sent a chill racing down my spine.
I kept moving, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. The mud clung to my boots, its wet, sticky texture making each step heavier than the last. My thoughts wandered briefly to my armor... now lost. I had discarded it and changed into so wearable cloths I found when we reached the camp, not knowing then that the Lords of Teka would unleash their decay at a massive scale, decimating everything in their wake.
The weight of my decisions pressed down on as I approached the palace. Its looming doors were massive and rusted, their surface etched with deep scars that seed to bleed shadows.
I stopped in front of the entrance, staring up at the intricate carvings that lined its surface, unsettling depictions of twisted figures writhing in tornt, their faces frozen in silent screams.
Before I could take another step, the doors creaked. Slowly, they began to open, the sound grating like tal scraping against bone.
The air shifted, a palpable wave of dread washing over .
And then I heard it.
A whisper.
Faint at first, almost imperceptible, but growing louder, resonating in the charged atmosphere. It wasn't a single voice but a chorus... layered, thick, distorted, and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Welco," it echoed deeply, the word dripping with pure malice.
The multicolored lightning flashed again, illuminating the doorway's pitch-black maw. The whisper lingered, curling around like an invisible chain, pulling forward.
Yadred was waiting.
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