A prison.
Either a physical one or a mental one.
That is what Rex was expecting to be under Lorayah Village.
Based on what Amanir found—Kealthar sounded like someone important, someone of great standing, someone who could give enough pressure to the Sky City so that they would take care of the empire— more than other places.
It could be a descendant of the main family, or someone close to it.
However, being right about the truth was sometimes not a good feeling.
Abras pulled open the heavy trapdoor with effort, then gestured toward the opening, indicating that the one Rex sought lay below. From where he stood, Rex couldn't see anything; he couldn't see what was down there—only a dense, oppressive darkness that refused to yield to the light.
Even his Werewolf vision couldn't see through it.
So, this darkness must be magical.
"What's wrong? Afraid of the darkness? Afraid that I'd close it on you? If so, you can still turn around."
Abras smirked, his tone laced with scorn.
