Jack stopped mid-step, arms crossed tight. "Dude. Seriously. You're not helping."
Anita kept walking. "If your heart's heavy, the trees know. That's what the elders say."
Jack rubbed his forearms. "I hate folklore. Why do you all talk in riddles?"
Then Ronnie reached the warehouse door and pushed it open.
Inside was not what they expected.
A circular formation. Men, some shirtless, others draped in loose robes, sat cross-legged in absolute stillness. Candles flickered, placed with uncanny precision around a ring of amulets. Estello sat among them, his eyes closed, mouth moving rhythmically. Latin. Harsh consonants woven into cadence. A strange hum echoed off the corrugated walls.
Ronnie raised a finger to his lips. Shhh.
Jack froze at the threshold, eyes darting between the glowing wax and the chanting figures. "Okay… yeah. Cult vibes confirmed."
Richard didn't speak. His breath caught, sharp and shallow.
Something… pulled.
