Medusa's laughter slithered through the storm-wracked chamber, a chilling counterpoint to Lear's desperate pleas. Falcon hovered above, wings thrumming with a righteous fury. He'd come prepared for battle, for teeth and venom, not the serpentine dance he found unfolding before him.
"See, Falcon?" Medusa crooned, her silver eyes gleaming like malevolent stars. "Lear seeks solace in the serpent's embrace. Together, we'll usher in a new age, where mortals cower and shadows reign!"
Lear, once strong and kingly, now appeared shrunken, a marionette dancing to the sorceress's tune. His pleas for immortality had morphed into a guttural chant, a chilling echo of Medusa's own hunger.
But Falcon wasn't fooled. He'd tasted her lies, felt the viper beneath her charm. Her words might weave a tapestry of darkness, but her eyes...
