The child's fingers curled around the edge of Eclipse's mask.
With a playful tug, she lifted it away.
For a heartbeat, silence.
The kind that slams into a room like lightning cracking stone.
The flickering torchlight caught his face at just the right angle—sharp jaw, smooth skin, and dark eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian.
His hair framed his features in disheveled nobility, soft shadows sculpting the contours of someone who had never belonged underground.
He didn't flinch. Didn't speak.
But the air shifted.
The five cult leaders stiffened, heads tilting, hands hovering near concealed weapons. Every breath turned shallow, each muscle taut as if their instincts screamed danger.
Murmurs began.
"That face…"
"It can't be."
"A Warbringer…? Down here?"
Even Derrilium went quiet, lips parting slowly in astonishment.
Only the girl blinked, utterly lost.
She looked around, expression falling into a comedic pout.
