Erend stood before them with his posture rigid, his expression carved into something hard and serious. His gaze moved slowly across the group, looking at their battered armor and tired eyes.
When his eyes lingered on Arty, his sister, the usual warmth that softened his features did not come. His jaw stayed set, his eyes sharp and focused as if he was carrying a pressure none of them had seen from him since they entered this place.
He was always calm as if everything was under control and as expected. But now it was different.
The change did not go unnoticed. That made them straighten instinctively.
Erend had always looked with ease and calm, always measured, even when the level looked like they tried to crush them.
Now he looked stiff and serious as if holding something dangerous behind his ribs. The air around him felt heavier because of it, and anxiety crept into their chests.
Something was wrong. They all felt it.
Then, Erend spoke.
