Hlusturia's body trembled, but not from pain.
No… it was something deeper. As her golden eyes met the soulless gray ones before her, her divine mind came to a halt.
Her pupils shrank. Her radiance dimmed.
She stared at his face—traced its features, that arrogant smirk, those cruel eyes, the unmistakable silver hair that draped over his brow—and then… she froze. Completely.
It was as if the chokehold no longer mattered. As if her lungs had stopped needing air. As if time itself had stopped.
"No… it can't be…" she murmured under her breath, barely audible even to herself. Her voice cracked—less from the pressure on her throat and more from the weight of memory.
Her mind spiraled.
That face, she knew it. Not from visions. Not from records. From experience. From fear.
Alameck chuckled, a low, mocking sound that rolled like thunder through the void. He tilted his head, the motion casual, almost amused, as he leaned in close.
