The dark void energy hovering above Cassian's exposed neck thrummed with a terrifying, absolute silence. It was not a sound that traveled through the air, but rather a cold vibration that vibrated directly against the bones, devouring the frantic howling of the winds that tore through the broken windows of the Great Hall.
The spatial energy spilling out from the severed ends of the three cables was wild, chaotic, and loud—hissing like angry serpents as it burned through stone and marble alike. But in the immediate radius of Kyle's dark shadow blade, there was nothing. No sound, no light, no warmth. Just the absolute, uncompromising weight of a executioner's steel.
Lord Cassian stared up at that thin line of pitch-black void.
