"I suppose I should greet you, Sister."
The air stopped moving.
No one spoke. Even the crackling stones seemed to fall silent this time around.
Ayame's breath caught in her throat. Her hand, holding onto Quinlan's, tightened until her nails dug into his skin. Her heartbeat quickened, becoming uneven.
It was the erratic pounding of panic.
The heat pressed harder against her chest. She could hear the thud of her own pulse.
Across from her, Black Fang sat perfectly still, her gaze never leaving Ayame's face. Not a muscle moved. Only the faint curve of curiosity glinted behind those violet eyes.
Ayame opened her mouth, but her lips trembled before any sound came out. "Th-that… that can't be."
Her voice broke.
Vex, pale as parchment, blinked rapidly before speaking up. "Raijin Fujimori was over seven hundred when he died… Despite the age gap between you and Black Fang, it's… Technically possible."
