There was only silence for a while.
The silence of stone walls that had heard too many confessions. The silence of flickering torchlight that could not quite burn away the shadows.
The silence of men standing in the wake of disaster, each waiting for the other to break.
Baron Meliodas stood stiff, his jaw set so tightly it seemed his teeth might splinter.
Aethal shifted restlessly, his boots scraping against the polished floor, eyes darting to Aiden as if demanding sense be restored. And Aiden—
Aiden giggled.
The sound was small at first, a thin crack in the solemn air, like water dripping in an empty cavern.
Then it grew. The giggle thickened into laughter, spilling out of him in jagged bursts that carried no mirth, only madness. His shoulders shook.
His head bowed, hair falling across his face, and still the laughter swelled until it filled the chamber.
It was hysteria, pure and raw.
