"I don't know about you," Nyssara said coolly, "but I should be just fine."
As she spoke, her body shimmered and faded, vanishing into thin air. Her form turned translucent, her presence erased—like she'd never been there at all.
"Uh… what?" Abyssion blinked, stunned. Something felt off. That was definitely her just ditching him.
Wait—no, no, no, don't leave me! Lady Nyssara!
Panic surged through him, and in that split second of distraction, a sharp, stabbing pain exploded in his skull. His vision went white, his thoughts scattered—and then, nothing.
His body moved on its own.
Without warning, he lunged toward the spot where Nyssara had just cloaked herself, his hand shooting out—and grabbing her arm.
"Wha—?!" Nyssara's eyes went wide, her pupils narrowing into slits. "What the hell are you doing?!"
But Abyssion didn't answer. Instead, he gave her a twisted grin—one that didn't belong to him at all. It was cold, mocking, and unmistakably familiar.
It was Wraithshade's smile.
