[A/N: This chapter contains heavy themes and imagery that may be sensitive for some readers.]
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"Welcome to my performance, new challenger."
A voice echoed before Alden could say anything.
It was smooth, theatrical and worst of all—pleased.
As the words faded, the crowd began to stir. One by one, their heads lifted.
Some smiled.
Some wept.
Some simply stared at Alden with eyes too blank to be real yet far too human to ignore.
He activated his [Eyes Of Supreme], trying to find the one controlling them.
But there was no-one.
"Don't try to find me… little challenger. I'm merely a part of the performance myself."
The distorted voice echoed again.
Part of the performance?
Does that mean he's among the puppets?
Alden's eyes sharpened immediately.
His gaze passed through the puppets before he froze.
How? How is this possible?
All of the puppets were alive.
There was no illusion. No necromancy. Every single puppet had the same aura.
