The silence after the archive's sinking was a physical thing, broken only by the slow, greedy gulps of the bog and the ragged sound of their own breathing. The Aetherium Road, now leading only to a expanse of churning, peat-dark water, felt like a bridge to nowhere. The mist, once just damp and cold, now felt like a shroud over a grave.
"It's learning," Elara repeated, the words tasting of ash. She stared at the spot where the Watcher had stood. "It's not just testing our strength anymore. It's testing our… composition. How we break."
Lysander nodded grimly, wiping bog water from his face. "Kaelen was a new kind of enemy. Not a warrior or a fanatic, but an ideologue. A willing servant who believed he was serving a higher purpose—preservation." He shuddered. "That is a far more dangerous corruption than mindless rage."
