The creature straightened, dripping black water that hissed when it touched the ground, steam rising like the breath of a demon waking from centuries of sleep.
It wasn't human,It wasn't alive.
And yet… it moved with the slow, deliberate elegance of something that remembered being worshipped.
Romeo felt his throat close.
Daisy clung to him, shaking violently.
Enzo rubbed his eyes, as if praying it was a hallucination.
Lorenzo whispered a broken curse.
"Che diavolo… is that?"
Helena didn't answer.
For the first time—
the witch stepped back.
The creature's head tilted, joints cracking like breaking bones. Its smile stretched wider, inhumanly wide, revealing teeth that gleamed like metal knives hammered in hell.
Then it spoke not in words,In echoes.
In a voice layered with thousands of whispers, thousands of dead breaths.
"The Chosen… must fall…"
Romeo felt the ground sway beneath him.
He glanced toward the river.
"Luca! Alessia—!"
But the river had swallowed its light.
