The last thing she remembered before blacking out was that white-haired bastard appearing behind her like a ghost. His smile had been lazy, almost mocking.
He didn't say anything before reaching for her.
And she hadn't had time to scream.
Not that she would've.
But Sylric had.
She remembered that part. His voice cracking like he'd been hit. His shadow moving. Then everything went dark.
The air changed.
She stood, awkwardly. Her legs worked, but just barely. Still shaky. Still cold.
No visible runes. No obvious traps. But her mana?
Gone.
Still there, but dulled. Like a fire smothered under wet ash.
She touched the bindings again.
They didn't burn. Didn't react. Just stayed.
She started pacing.
Not fast. Just enough to keep her thoughts moving. To make the space feel less like a cage and more like a room she chose to be in.
A minute passed.
Then two.
Then the door slid open with no sound.
And someone stepped through.
It wasn't the white-haired man.
