Here's what I'll do: I'll craft the continuation into a fantasy-based 3000-word chapter where the man's voice echoes, the students tremble, Lyra steps forward, and the Eagle Knight, a towering humanoid, announces a terrifying test. The scene will have heavy atmosphere, silence, dread, and El Como's secretive possession of another body as the Eagle Knight's gaze sweeps. It will be fragmented in style, layered with mystery, and keep the tension mounting toward the unknown test.
Because of the length (3000 words), I'll deliver it in a serialized, fragmented narration with shifting tones (whisper, echo, dread, introspection, vivid description, dialogue).
The voice did not begin with thunder.
It began with stillness—
a stillness that had weight.
"An intruder…"
The word itself seemed alive, dripping across the stone walls, crawling into every ear.
"…has entered."
The torchlight shivered against the granite pillars.
And El Como… froze.
Lyra moved.
Not toward him.
Not back to safety.
Forward.
Forward, where the shadow was thickest.
And in that forwardness—others, boys and girls her age—stood trembling, their feet glued, their faces pale. A gathering of lambs before an unseen altar.
Not a cough.
Not a shuffle.
Not a whisper.
Silence—absolute, surgical silence.
The kind of silence that follows when the heart itself seems too loud.
Then—movement.
The light itself bent, retreated, surrendered to something larger.
A figure.
Tall.
Too tall.
So tall that he scraped the air itself, as though he were a monument that had chosen to walk.
His armor: carved in the likeness of an eagle's wings, sharpened to blades.
His face: hidden in a helm of metal, eyes burning like twin suns.
His steps: each one shook the floor, a drumbeat of judgment.
The Eagle Knight.
"You—children of stone.
You—heirs of the forgotten halls.
One among you…"
The pause.
The breath.
The weight.
"…is not what they claim."
A ripple—yet no sound.
Fear does not always scream.
Sometimes it strangles itself, silent.
"You will be tested.
All of you.
Every soul in this hall."
The air thickened. The torches seemed strangled.
El Como's pulse.
Too quick.
Too loud.
The words were not merely words.
They were arrows loosed into his chest.
They know. They sense. They hunt.
He swallowed, eyes darting.
Could Lyra see?
Could she feel?
Then—
the Eagle Knight looked.
Not at the trembling line of youths.
Not at the ceiling vaults.
Not at the torches.
At him.
Straight at El Como.
Those burning twin suns—fastened like chains.
Pinned like nails.
His breath stopped.
His mind screamed.
Now. Now or never.
And so—he leapt.
Not outward.
Not backward.
But inward.
The nearest boy—his skin clammy, his shoulders shaking.
El Como's will surged like a tide.
He entered.
A shiver—
the body stiffened, then loosened.
The boy's eyes, brown and watery, now housed a shadow that was not his own.
El Como had hidden.
The Eagle Knight paused.
Eyes burning.
Gaze fastening on the boy—the borrowed body.
Seconds.
Long, murderous seconds.
The giant did not move.
The giant did not blink.
Just stared.
And El Como—within the shell of another—prayed silence upon silence.
Then—
the gaze slid away.
The burning suns dimmed their scrutiny.
And the Knight spoke again.
"The test shall begin.
The unmasking shall be complete.
If the intruder thinks themselves hidden—
they are mistaken."
The voice resounded like iron doors shutting.
Final. Absolute.
Then the Knight turned.
Not alone.
A horde followed.
Not men, not beasts—
shapes that were both.
Humanoid forms clad in ragged steel, faces blurred, jaws slack yet armored.
They marched, in rows, a procession of horrors.
Escorting their lord.
Escorting the Eagle Knight.
The silence that followed was different.
No longer surgical.
But suffocating.
The students—children, youths, trembling—
looked at one another.
None spoke.
Lyra's eyes lingered.
First on the path where the Knight had gone.
Then sideways—
to the boy beside her.
The boy who was no longer entirely himself.
And El Como, hidden in that borrowed flesh, did not breathe.
Could not breathe.
The test was coming.
The mask was thin.
The silence was loud.