Dust still fell in soft cascades behind them, a faint whisper of the collapse that nearly buried them alive. For a long while, Arios and Liza said nothing. They simply stood there, listening—to the hollow drip of unseen water, to the pulse of mana beneath their boots, to the sound of their own breathing.
Liza leaned back against the nearest wall, pressing a hand to her side. "That… was too close," she murmured.
Arios didn't reply at first. His gaze lingered on the sealed passage behind them, faint wisps of red mana still rising from where Garron had disappeared. "He's gone for now," he said finally. "But he won't stop."
Liza let out a tired laugh. "Yeah. I gathered that much."
Silence settled between them again. A silence that wasn't hostile, just heavy. Thick with the weight of everything that had happened—and everything they didn't yet understand.
