The silence stretched unnaturally as they pressed forward, the weight of their defiance settling in the very bones of the world. The land no longer felt familiar. Every step carried an unsettling vibration beneath their feet, as though the earth itself was recalibrating.
Camelia knew they had done something irreversible.
Atherion walked ahead, his blade still drawn, though he had not spoken in the last few minutes. His silence carried more weight than words—it wasn't just caution. It was knowing.
Sylvara moved beside Camelia, her grip on Morgath still firm, but even she felt the shift in the air. "This place isn't neutral," she muttered. "Not anymore."
Camelia took a slow breath. "It will be if we move fast enough."
Morgath let out a short laugh, breathy and sharp. "You assume the world will allow you to leave untouched."
She wasn't wrong.
