Hilda stood frozen, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat, eyes wide and unfocused as if the darkness itself had crawled inside her.
"What... what just happened?"
Her voice trembled, thin and fragile, barely surviving the weight of the forest.
The monk folded his hands slowly, head slightly lowered, his calm almost unsettling against the chaos that had just unfolded.
"May their souls rest in peace."
The words landed like a spark on dry leaves.
Artem turned sharply, rage flashing across his face. He stepped forward in two long strides and grabbed the monk by the collar, yanking him close.
"What rest in peace, huh? What are you talking about?"
The monk did not resist. His eyes remained steady, unreadable, his breathing unchanged.
Basil raised his voice, sharp and commanding.
"Artem. Calm down."
Artem snapped his head toward him.
"Calm down? What do you know about calm, old man? I lost my men. We lost Sheikh."
