The chamber's silence was suffocating. Every member of the Circle stared at one another, suspicion flickering like shadows across their faces. Armand's blade hummed faintly, the darker whisper pressing harder. One of them will betray you.
Grace Johnson's eyes narrowed. "If the whispers are warning him, we must listen. Someone here is not loyal."
The elder's jaw tightened. "Accusations without proof will tear us apart."
But before Armand could respond, the darker whisper surged, sharp and undeniable. His gaze snapped to one of the cloaked figures at the far end of the table — a man named Elias, whose knife had remained strangely silent throughout the meeting.
Armand rose, his blade trembling in his grip. "It's him. Elias."
Gasps rippled through the chamber. Elias's eyes widened, then narrowed into a cold glare. Slowly, he stood, his hand resting on his knife. "So the whispers have chosen me as their scapegoat?"
Grace's knife hummed louder, steady and accusing. "Your blade is silent. Why?"
Elias's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Because I no longer serve the whispers. I serve freedom. Wright was right — the Circle is a prison. And I will help tear it down."
The chamber erupted in chaos. Knives hummed, voices shouted, and Elias drew his blade, its whisper jagged and violent. The traitor had been revealed — and the Circle was no longer whole.