The night at the "Cold Iron" inn felt unnaturally quiet after the all-day clamor of the market. Outside the window, the lamps dimmed one by one, footsteps on the stone sidewalk grew increasingly rare, and the cold mountain wind slipped through the cracks of the old wooden walls. Inside the small room, there was only Sofia's steady breathing on the bed beside her, Noir's soft snoring as he curled at the foot of the bed, and Sylvia's silence as she sat leaning against the wall, her red eyes open and fixed on the door.
The Chain of Abyss gave a single faint tremor different from before. Not the usual alert vibration, but a cold whisper that crawled up her spine. Sylvia's eyes snapped wider. She didn't move yet, only listened.
