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Chapter 391 - War VII

It was supposed to be a routine scan.

Aris stood near the southern edge of Floor 307, baton held loose at her side. She'd gone out alone with a tempo reader strapped to her wrist. A weak anomaly had been reported, maybe just leftover pulse noise from the last skirmish.

But now, she wasn't so sure.

The air felt wrong.

Still.

Not quiet—but heavy. Like sound itself had taken a step back.

She tapped the reader. "Anything?"

The screen blinked once, then went blank.

That had never happened before.

Her instincts kicked in.

Aris slowly crouched, placed her palm on the ground, and tried to feel for the second beat—the rhythm she'd discovered inside herself.

Nothing.

Like the floor was holding its breath.

Then she heard it.

A faint scraping sound. One step.

She stood, turned, and saw it.

A tall, thin figure in dark robes, standing between two broken stone spires.

Its face was covered in a smooth white mask stitched with red lines. It didn't breathe. Didn't move.

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