In the crushing darkness, silence was heavy.
Thump... Thump...
The sound of stone feet impacting marble echoed through the sanctum.
The Weeping Sovereign was circling above them. She moved with the patience of a deadly assassin, inevitable and crushing.
Damien and Isabelle lay flat on the cold floor, their chests pressed against the stone to stifle the vibration of their heartbeats.
'Do not speak,' Damien's voice echoed directly inside Isabelle's mind, carried by the Contract Gem embedded in her soul.
'If we even whisper, she'll sense the air move. We can only talk through the contact gem.'
Isabelle gripped his hand tighter in the dark.
'Master... she is close. I can feel the sadness in the atmosphere being directed closer and closer to us.'
'Focus,' Damien commanded mentally.
'She hunts by detecting even the smallest of movements; to beat her, we must become ventriloquists.'
'Ventriloquists?'
'We need to throw our voices,' Damien explained.
