The basement was dead silent as both sides stared at each other.
Then, a low chuckle filled the air.
The Puppeteer tilted his masked head, fingers twitching faintly, and spoke with a distorted, almost gleeful voice.
"Welcome," he said. "I've been expecting you."
Noah's fingers clenched into fists, his body instinctively lowering into a fighting stance.
Arlo's eyes narrowed, working overtime to memorize every detail he could about the Puppeteer.
The Puppeteer spread his arms, the gesture theatrical. "Do you like my workshop? It's taken months to perfect. The blood, the pain, the screams… all part of the masterpiece."
Before either of them could move, the floor rippled with a surge of mana.
The runes across the walls flared red, and a barrier shot upwards, sealing the exits behind them.
Arlo's eyes flicked around the room. "He's locked us in."
