"...Raaahhhh\~\~!!"
The moment the guttural roar tore through the air, the entire atmosphere seemed to shift—growing denser, heavier, as if the world itself had decided to hold its breath. The surrounding specters didn't just *notice* Wade—they *locked on* to him. Their twisted forms turned in perfect, unnatural unison, the suddenness of the movement making the very air feel like it rippled.
The confident smirk Wade wore faded ever so slightly as a shiver slid down his spine like a thin blade of ice. There was no mistaking the intent in their movements.
They were watching him—not with eyes, for most had none—but with an instinctive, predatory focus, as if his very presence called to them. It was the look of starving wolves who had just found a lone, fattened calf, and there was nothing in their demeanor that hinted at hesitation or mercy.
