The chamber was silent.
Too silent.
No dripping water. No echo of their breathing. Just a still, heavy quiet that pressed against their ears.
The floor was wrong. It wasn't stone anymore. Smooth black glass stretched out across the chamber, polished like a mirror. Pale lights drifted under the surface, slow and ghostlike, shifting with a faint glow like trapped fireflies.
At the center stood a squat altar of rough stone.
On it rested a cracked spirit core, faintly pulsing.
Yuxin tilted her head, lowering her fan. "…That doesn't look good."
Tian Lei didn't move closer. His eyes scanned the walls, the floor, the shadows overhead. "Trap."
As if the word woke it, the black glass rippled.
Once.
The pale lights beneath stopped drifting.
They turned upward.
Shapes began pressing out from the surface, rising slow and silent. First arms, thin and gray, trailing black cords that sank back into the glass. Then heads with pale masks, smooth and hollow.
