The warehouse was silent now.
Not the calm kind—
the kind that pressed against the ears after violence, heavy with the smell of blood and burned mana.
Bodies lay scattered across the shattered floor. Masked men and women—broken, torn, erased. The shadows they had crawled from now empty and still.
Grom stood frozen at the center of it all.
His eyes were wide.
The place where Dren had been—
Only Zane was standing tehre.
There is no sign of Dren and
No trace of the Heart of the Deep Forge.
The artifact was missing too.
"W–what the hell…?" Grom whispered hoarsely.
"How could he just—disappear like that…?"
Zane lowered his hand slowly, fingers relaxing as if he had simply let go of nothing.
"Space magic," he said, voice neutral.
Grom snapped his head toward him.
"That's Impossible!!"
Mira turned as well, shock written plainly across her face.
