Once Lucia, Sean, and their group stormed out of the dining hall, the place fell into eerie silence. The echo of their departing footsteps gradually faded down behind the door, leaving behind only the faint clatter of broken glass and overturned chairs.
Later on, the servants huddled in the corners and remained frozen with their bodies trembling profusely.
But then, as though a silent command had been issued, the trembling ceased. The panic drained from their faces, replaced by cold precision.
One by one, the 'servants' straightened their backs and brushed the dust and porcelain shards from their uniforms with mechanical calm. Their movements were sharp, deliberate, too disciplined for mere attendants.
Moments later, the heavy back door creaked open. Fargo entered first, his boots silent against the floor, his eyes sweeping over the wreckage with calculating scrutiny.
