The silence that followed was brief but sharp—like a held breath that knew it was being dared to exhale.
Aurora stared at him.
Her voice was soft, but stiff with disbelief. "…You're serious?"
Atlas nodded. "Dead serious."
She stood slowly, joints protesting as if they'd rusted over. Her legs had grown used to the vigil by Loki's side. To the stillness. To helplessness disguised as patience.
The candle beside his bed flickered. The flame thinned, bent away from the window like it sensed something coming.
Aurora folded her arms. "Do you even know what... Hell is...?"
"Veil does," Atlas replied simply.
The shadow creature behind her chuckled with bitter amusement. "Unfortunately."
That word hung in the air. Unfortunately.
Aurora took a breath, trying to pace herself. She rubbed her temple, her thoughts spiraling between past and present.
