"This village... is worse than I expected."
Louis stood behind the broken stone wall, with his palm on a piece of crumbling brick, as he gazed towards the village center. The whispers surged like a tide, yet lingered around his ears like shredded flakes in the wind, refusing to disperse.
In the square, the "villagers" moved slowly across the cracked stone slabs like soulless puppets.
Their clothing was tattered, their skin an ashen gray, and their eyes bore the cloudy gleam of dead fish, yet their lips occasionally twitched, mumbling something.
"Don't you think these insect corpses look... different from the ones we found last time at Cold Pine Ridge?" Eduardo spoke first, his gaze sweeping over the wandering figures, "Those were just controlled bodies. But these people..."
"These insect corpses seem to have a bit of 'self' left." Louis replied.
"More like semi-parasitic." Eduardo stroked his chin.
