The chamber smelled of blood and ash, the air thick with the tang of ritual. Candles flickered along the stone walls, casting dancing shadows that writhed like serpents across the floor. Selene stood at the center of the circle, arms raised, palms pressed against the cold stone etched with crimson runes. Her eyes glowed faintly, a soft violet hue shimmering beneath her lashes. Around her, the Inquisitors moved with silent precision, murmuring incantations in the language of old blood-magic, their hands tracing sigils in the air. Every chant, every gesture, was a tether thrown into the world — a net designed to sense, locate, and ensnare. “The bond is strong,” one Inquisitor whispered, his voice tense. “They’re not just running. They’re learning… using it against us.” Selene’s lips curved into a thin smile, part admiration, part rage. “Good,” she said softly, the word like a blade against the stone. “Let them think themselves clever. Let them grow bold. We will see just how far the
Last Updated : 2025-11-06 Read more