The room felt suffocating.
The humming of Grom's artifact bench faded. The only sound left was the dwarf's ragged breathing as dark mana slowly curled up from his spine like smoke no one else could see.
Except Zane.
And Caelum.
Lucen stepped back, hand instinctively drifting toward his sword.
"Zane… what exactly do you mean by parasite?"
Zane didn't answer him. Not yet.
His gaze stayed fixed on Grom — the dwarf's face drenched in sweat, completely oblivious to the danger radiating from within his own body as he leaned closer to the open technowatch components.
"…just a little more," Grom muttered, voice trembling with obsession, mind trapped in the intricate design he couldn't decipher. His runic eye spun faster and faster, reacting to the swelling mana within him.
Zane sighed.
