Silence lingered within the ruined structure long after the final movement had ceased.
It was not the kind of silence that followed chaos, where echoes still trembled faintly in the air and the memory of violence clung to the environment like a fading storm. Nor was it the natural quiet of an abandoned place, where time had long since erased the presence of life.
This silence was deliberate.
It was controlled.
It was shaped—held in place by something unseen yet undeniably present.
Three bodies lay scattered across the fractured stone floor, their forms partially illuminated by the thin shafts of light that filtered through cracks in the broken ceiling above. Dust hovered lazily in the air, drifting through the stillness as though even it had been slowed by the weight of the moment.
The intruders were unconscious.
Breathing.
Alive.
Exactly as Aether intended.
