The silence had always been one of Atticus' favorite states.
The lack of noise, the lack of distractions, he savored every moment of it. So much so that even back on Earth, he would often venture out to the woods, basements, anywhere the bustle of people couldn't reach him.
That was why Logoth had become an invaluable asset the moment he learned it. Its function alone had placed it at the top of his abilities hierarchy.
That, however, was until… this.
The single utterance of the fifth art plunged the world into absolute stillness.
The Marquis were frozen midair all around him, eyes wide, darting frantically. Veins bulged along their necks and temples as many struggled desperately to move, yet it was as though an unseen force held them fast.
"What… what is this?"
"I—I can't move."
"Did you feel that? Something just passed through me…"
"Did he… did he attack us?"
"That's impossible. I didn't even see him move."
"We should've run…"
