The group pushed deeper into the labyrinthine halls of the corrupted church, the air thick with residual miasma. Cracks along the ceiling dripped faint streams of dark liquid, like ink bleeding from heaven's veins. Shellia tightened her grip on her staff, her eyes narrowing.
"Everyone… stay alert," she whispered, her tone dramatic, like the prelude to a legendary confrontation.
["Alert mode: engaged!"] Yuki flapped his new, ten-year-old body's wings proudly, striking a heroic pose.
Orielle crossed her fiery arms and snorted. ["He just wants an excuse to look cool again."]
["Says the one who keeps adding unnecessary flames to everything,"] Sylas replied dryly, a puff of frosty air swirling around his pale hair.
["Unnecessary? Please. Flames are never unnecessary."] Orielle retorted.
Orryn's calm voice slipped into Shellia's mind. ["At least try not to burn down the church. I think it's structurally unstable enough without Orielle's 'unnecessary flames.'"]
