The dungeon's air was still heavy with corruption, walls breathing shadows, and the floor groaning as though it resented every step Shellia and her group took. The silence was tense, unnerving. Everyone was on guard.
And then—
["You should step to the left, Shellia."]
Shellia froze mid-step, staff raised defensively. Her eyes darted around. That voice…?
She swallowed hard. "...Yuki? Orielle? Sylas?"
No answer.
But then again—
["Not them. Me."]
Her grip tightened. She turned slowly. Behind her, Orryn padded softly, antlers gleaming with faint frost light. His chibi form—because apparently, he chose to stay small for convenience—blinked up at her.
Shellia's eyes widened. "...Orryn?"
["Yes. Finally, you notice. Honestly, I've been speaking since my evolution, but you were too busy waving your staff dramatically."]
Shellia's jaw dropped. She nearly tripped on her own robes. "Wha—you—wait—YOU CAN TALK?!"
