Ba Ryou's words did not echo in the corridor. They seemed to sink directly into the stone itself, absorbed as if the Pavilion had heard them and chosen not to respond aloud.
"That wasn't water."
Jin Yue did not answer, not because he would not, but because the corridor answered first. The lantern flames along the wall flickered weakly, then died without warning. Darkness descended...not the ordinary kind that simply follows the absence of light, but something heavier, something that pressed close to the skin and crawled into the lungs. It felt like being sealed inside a coffin that was still warm from another occupant.
Then the floor shifted.
Not collapsing.
Dividing.
