The group of seven stood there, frozen in place as everything settled since the call. Their shadows flickered in the dim candlelight, distorted and stretched across the cabin walls, just as the eerie, unnatural calm in the room seemed to stretch out the seconds.
For Cecilion, the feeling that pulsed in the air, thick and charged with anticipation, was familiar. He'd already been through a lot yet his past self still gasped as he should. It was the same feeling he had experienced earlier—back in the present—before everything had unraveled. A strange energy he could never place his finger on.
This was it. The moment he had been preparing for, the moment he had anticipated since they had entered the station. The moment he'll know, the moment he'll remember.
His body itched to accelerate the ritual, to skip the doubts, to thrust forward and discover what awaited them all. But despite the pull to rush headlong into it, his instincts told him to hold back.
