A while went by, and the group had fallen silent. Not that they chose to voluntarily, but thanks to the continuous struggling and yelling out at the Crow, they had finally lost the strength to do so.
Barely able to hold their consciousness together.
It now took so much energy to keep their minds from falling apart—talk less of actually speaking.
"Please..." one person muttered, his voice low and submissive, almost swallowed by the heavy air.
Oliver let his words linger for a moment before replying, "Not yet."
At least... not without the Relic.
The man, seeing how his words didn't reach Oliver, turned over to his companions, his face pinned with regret and growing panic. "Boss..." he called out to the leader of the group.
However, no reply came.
He called out again... and then again.
Still nothing.
Then he turned to the others. One after the other, calling out to every single one of them, his voice cracking more each time.
In the end, only one person returned his calls.
