Bima recoiled, not from the water, but from the chilling whisper that slithered into his mind. It was Lia's voice, twisted and hollow, a phantom echo amplified by the reservoir's corrupted consciousness."Lia…?" he breathed, his voice catching in his throat.Riska, her face etched with horror, grabbed his arm. "Bima, no! It’s not her! It’s the Palate! It’s mimicking her!"The water’s surface remained unnervingly still, the phosphorescent glow now a dull ember beneath the grey sky. But the whisper persisted, weaving through Bima’s thoughts, a seductive lullaby of despair. “Fight… for Lia… fight for taste… fight for us…”Kevin, still trembling, whimpered, "It… it knows what we want. It knows what we fear."Bima’s resolve, forged in the heat of battle and the ashes of his despair, began to waver. The whisper was a phantom limb, a ghost of Lia’s presence that tore at his heart. He saw her face again, her final scream, and the chilling mockery
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