For a moment, Minerva failed to react.
She stared at her best friend with wide, unblinking eyes, as if she had just heard something utterly absurd.
The words echoed in her mind, refusing to make sense.
A necromancer.
She almost scoffed.
The denial rose instinctively, clawing its way up her throat.
She wanted to laugh, to brush it off as paranoia born from fear.
How could there possibly be a necromancer hiding among Federation Police Officers?
To her, it sounded like the most ridiculous accusation imaginable.
Yet the moment she looked into Rowena's face, the scoff died before it could escape.
Rowena was pale, deathly pale.
Her lips trembled, and her eyes were wide with naked fear, the kind that could not be faked.
It wasn't panic or hysteria.
It was terror sharpened by certainty.
Slowly, Minerva felt a chill crawl up her spine.
Her expression shifted, dread seeping in as the realization began to settle.
The world suddenly felt colder, heavier.
