The Lich King loomed over Sora, his hollow eye sockets glowing with vile delight.
"What will you do, child?" he asked, voice sharp as bone scraping stone. "Accept your fate and face that your only family is gone?"
Sora dropped to her knees, her palms smacking the cold floor. Her head sank into her arms—a picture of despair. It looked like surrender.
But then—she chuckled. Slowly, she rose.
The Lich King tilted his skull. "You find this amusing?" he hissed. "Then you must be the true monster."
"Amusing?" Her voice trembled, then hardened. "No. I'm furious. I want to tear you apart and rip out that worthless soul you're clinging to."
Her sudden confidence was unreal. Madness? Maybe not. She remembered the voice she heard back in the world of light, right before she nearly sacrificed her soul to return to life.
"Hold on," the voice had said—cold, commanding. "There's something you must know."
She had waited, breath caught.
"Do not trust what the Lich King shows you."
