"What the heck does that mean?"
The atmospheric pressure in Shaft One dropped so fast my ears popped with a painful crack. The azure glow from the mana-crystals didn't just flicker, it began to pulse in a rhythmic, haunting cadence that matched the deep, subterranean "thrum" of the Singing Stone.
"Gorland, get back!" I barked, my hand instinctively flying to the Golden Star-Mark on my forehead, which was suddenly burning like a hot coal.
Chubby was no longer drifting lazily by my side. His semi-translucent form began to expand, his edges fraying into jagged, violet lightning.
Usually, he was my stoic, silent auditor, but now he was letting out a sound I'd never heard, a high-pitched, harmonic resonance that sounded like a choir of ghosts trapped in a silver bell.
"Boss... the tools!" Henry yelled from the tunnel entrance.
