The cavern reeked of scorched chitin. A thin haze of smoke curled upward, clinging to the ceiling like the ghost of what they had just endured. Carcasses of beetles littered the ground in obscene abundance, clicking faintly as their twitching legs settled into stillness.
No one spoke.
Elisa stood in the center, her hands lowered now, but the spheres still whirled faintly, as if unwilling to obey her call for calm. The faint hum they emitted set every nerve on edge. Her eyes, wide, luminous, seemed too bright for her own face—like borrowed stars that had no place in a human gaze.
Maggie finally broke the silence. Not with words, but with a grunt—she planted the haft of her halberd against the stone, leaned on it heavily, and released a breath that sounded almost like relief. Yet she didn't look at Elisa. Not directly. Not the way she used to.
