Chapter 135

GRAYSON’S POV:

My sister, a once-vibrant soul, stood before me amidst a grim tableau of lifeless bodies. There was no flicker of life in her aura, only a haunting void. I couldn't tear my gaze away from her hands—hands now coated in blood, her shirt a canvas painted in macabre hues, her hair a ghastly mosaic.

Beside me, Iciest clenched his fists, a battle clearly raging within him. He was barely containing something—a mix of emotions I couldn't quite read.

I felt compelled to break the silence and grasp at understanding. My voice, a fragile thread, slipped out in a hesitant whisper: "Was Ice... this brutal, Iciest?"

His reaction was slow; his gaze was steady but heavy with a burden of grief. He met my eyes, his own reflecting a storm of conflicted emotions. With a heaviness that seemed to drag his words from him, he responded, "The real her... she wouldn't inflict this kind of harm unless something triggered her darker side."

It was a confession layered with sorrow and understanding—a