Kestrel came to the cliff edge beside him in silence.
They were both silent for a short while. The mountain air had changed again, turning colder and heavier as the light shifted, and even here at the summit Lancet could feel a faint pressure dragging at the edge of the world ahead.
Kestrel narrowed her eyes slightly.
"I wondered if you were feeling it too," she said at last. "The aura of Gloom from there."
Lancet followed her gaze. The land beyond the storm line looked wounded, the colors of the sky bruised into red and black where the clouds hung low over the broken earth.
"Is it a Demon Citadel?" she asked him.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Well… it's about to be."
Kestrel turned her head a little, one eyebrow lifting.
Lancet kept looking toward the horizon. "That place is called Deathrock. For years it's been a half citadel."
