The woman perched on the soft mattress, muscles rigid, in a room heavy with the sweet, smoky scent of sandalwood incense—each breath thickening the knot of dread in her chest. A chill clung to the air, heavy and unmoving, making every breath feel dense, as the faint hiss of burning incense lingered beneath it, its sweetness soured by fear.
She was clutching the sheet of her mattress, her breathing stopped because of the horror she was currently experiencing.
Her knuckles whitened, nails digging into the coarse fabric, grounding herself as her heart thudded erratically in her chest.
W-What just h-happened?
She had the answer to that very question in her horror-filled mind, yet she couldn't even bring herself to imagine it.
For five whole minutes, even the sound of her breathing wasn't heard inside the room. Reality seemed too cruel to accept.
But she had no choice. If things really went bad, it wouldn't be just her who received true death—it would be the entire White Moon Guild.
