The echo of the Penitent’s laugh still clung to the depot walls, like smoke that refused to clear. The black trail of ichor it left behind pulsed faint in the moonlight, already beginning to crust into something that looked less like blood and more like burnt tar. Every pair of eyes in the room followed it until the shadows swallowed the last drop.
No one moved at first.
Clara’s chest heaved sharp, daggers trembling in her grip though she refused to let them fall. Lyra cradled her shoulder, jaw clenched but mouth curved into that infuriating smirk she wore like armor. Crimora pressed her back to the wall, crimson eyes wide, her flames guttering weak between her fingers before they vanished. Selvara, golden gaze narrow, growled under her breath like she wanted to spit but couldn’t quite f
