The stone beneath their boots felt strangely quiet as Ludwig and Celine moved back through the ruin, the echoes of their steps trailing like whispers in the empty fortress. Behind them, the Umbral Hound, no, not just some hound anymore, prowled in silence, its shadow padding on the broken flagstones without a sound. Its presence was unsettling. Even the air seemed to grow heavier when it moved, as though the dungeon itself was careful not to offend it.
Thomas floated a little to Ludwig's left, his spectral outline barely visible except for the faint shimmer of his edges. "This is the part where someone makes a joke, right?" he muttered, as if trying to cut through the stillness.
But Ludwig wasn't in the mood. His hand rested on the lantern at his hip, his eyes scanning the ruins, every nerve alert. "No time for jokes," he said mentally to Thomas and replied vocally to Celine. "That thing… it's following us."
