For a moment, it looked like I was caught up in an illusion. It did not seem like we were just about to be attacked by…what even were those? Instead, it was more like the fortress unraveled itself before our eyes.
The walls did not fall apart. They opened in hairline cracks that spread across the walls like veins before something beneath began to move. But not outward or inward–through the wall. The surface softened, like the compressed earth had forgotten to stay solid. And from those shifting seams, shapes began to press through.
Hands came first, but they were too long and too thin. Fingers bending at too many joints clawed their way out of the stone without breaking it. Then came the hideous grimaces, stretching through the surface like reflections in disturbed water.
They were disfigured and couldn't have looked more atrocious even if they had wanted to. None of them were the same.
"Demons." Clove grunted, momentarily eyeing the Trickster Demon.
