The dead silence didn't last long.
A low, suppressed murmur of astonishment and sharp intakes of breath rippled through the hall, like an undercurrent flowing beneath a sheet of ice.
This wasn't admiration for a beautiful creation, but a complex emotion blending apprehension, disbelief, and a fascination with danger.
"A Mind Flayer's ship..."
A hoarse voice drifted from a Shadow, laden with the weight of confirmation.
"How could one of their creations... end up out here?"
"A Shell Ship... It definitely has their style—those lines, that enclosed feel..."
A whisper came from another direction, the voice laced with a scholar's caution and an imperceptible hint of tension.
"The texture of the carapace and the arrangement of the Runes match the scattered accounts in ancient texts, but these repair marks..."
The speaker seemed to shake their head.
"Crude. Far too crude. It doesn't fit the obsessively meticulous style of those octopus-heads."
