For a long beat, Raven didn't move.
His hand hovered near the white stone slab, his eyes fixed on the goddess's sleeping form. On the outside, he looked calm, even serene, like a man standing on the edge of a decision, measuring the leap.
Inside?
Absolute chaos.
"BROOOO!" Omni's voice boomed inside his head like a stadium mic. "That's a god-corpse, dawg! You don't just walk up to that and be like 'Yeah, lemme pledge my soul to it'! What is this, a cult for attractive dead ladies?!"
'Keep it down!' Raven hissed mentally, wincing. 'You're gonna make me look crazy.'
"You are crazy if you're even considerin' it! Look at that divine residue! That's not holy light—it's shadow sludge with glitter!"
Raven frowned just a little.
Out loud, Ivelia's voice floated gently from the chamber's walls.
"...What's wrong, Raven?" She asked, her tone soft, patient—almost motherly. "Is something troubling you?"
Raven didn't reply. Not because he was being mysterious.
