Lockeroom's Pandemonium

Chapter 78: The trap of the Angel of Lightning

Indeed, the air is filled with undeniable, deadly silence.

The whole surrounding—perhaps the whole Lockeroom island—is baring its fanged silence, screaming with the tension, the fierce adrenaline that was rushing in the whole place.

The whole island is filled with the fear of witnessing death.

and fear of being dead.

And the fear of seeing the unfaced faces of grim reapers who would cut heads until its last tissue. And then die.

And suffer in pain as the head rolls onto the ground, begging for another chance to live.

To survive.

The whole place, even the forest is nothing but a dead silence. No trees rustling from the plays of the wind—there were even no whistles of wind. No beast howling or throwing their own horrible voices in the heart of the green groups of trees and leave