The word hung in the dark long after the voice had finished speaking it, the way breath hangs in cold air even after the mouth that made it has closed.
Eight.
Nobody moved. Shen Rui's hand had gone rigid on the doorframe, halfway between reaching for it and pulling back.
"Who's there?" he called, voice cracking on the second word. "Hey. Who said that?"
Su Qing's arm shot out and caught him across the chest before he could take a single step further into the black.
"Don't," she said.
"I'm not going in, I'm asking—"
"You're leaning in. That's how it starts." Her eyes never left the doorway. "We don't know what's on the other side of that threshold. Ask from here."
He Yuan had gone very still beside them, his face pale in a way that had nothing to do with the dim hallway light.
"It sounded young," he said, quiet, like he didn't want the darkness to hear him say it. "Too young. That wasn't—" He stopped himself, swallowed. "That wasn't an adult's voice."
