She lifted her head slowly, her piercing eyes sweeping over the robed figures that stood in tense silence.
"You all should leave this place," Magdalyna said, her voice quiet yet carrying an unmistakable weight. It sounded like a distant echo and was low-pitched.
Without giving them time to question her, she snapped her fingers.
The sound was sharp, almost unnatural.
A heartbeat later, the entire chamber groaned as if in agony, the stone beneath their feet trembling violently. Dust rained from the high, and cracks began to skitter like jagged spiderwebs across the marble floor.
The robed figures exchanged uncertain glances.
None moved.
None spoke.
The air was thick with their confusion.
The black fiend still stood before her—tall, unyielding, its form an obsidian silhouette against the shuddering light of the altar flames.
"What are you doing?" she asked coldly, tilting her head. "Leave… if you don't want to die."
The fiend's glowing eyes burned with grim resolve.
