THIRD PERSON POV
The table crashed against the stone wall with a thunderous crack, splintering into pieces. Dust rose like ash, and the sound echoed through the vast, dark chamber.
The Mistress stood at the center of the room, her eyes burning like fire against the cold gloom. Her gown, black as the void, rippled around her ankles as the air itself seemed to recoil from her rage.
The shadows trembled in every corner, pressing themselves into the cracks of the walls, desperate not to be seen.
“You told me,” she said slowly, her voice sharp and icy, “that you could handle a simple task.”
Her tone dropped lower—quieter, but deadlier. “A. Simple. Task.”
None of the shadows dared to speak. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until she moved again—fast, furious. Another object,
