Snapping out of their daze, Ashrik and Isaac moved soundlessly into the chamber. Though still concealed by the fire wielder's ability, they were still careful with their steps.
The chamber was quite dark, but the light was enough to illuminate the two figures inside.
Formerly a man, the high-level zombie lay on its side, chest rising and falling unevenly. Muscles swollen grotesquely beneath torn flesh.
Dark veins crawled beneath its ashen skin; its face was half-ruined. Dried blood stained its claws.
"Grrkkkhh..."
Its groans reverberated against the concrete walls. As if each breath scraped its throat raw, the sound was low and strained.
The young man beside the zombie kept one hand pressed to its back. As if calming a wild animal or a loved one in pain, his palm moved in slow, repetitive strokes.
"It's okay... It's okay," he murmured hoarsely. "Try to breathe slowly."
