Cyrus' voice was calm but tense. "Athena?"
"I'm here," she replied, her voice tight with unease. "What just happened?"
"I don't know," he muttered, glancing around. But it was useless. There was nothing to see—just endless black.
Suddenly, a presence loomed above them. Slowly, like something emerging from the darkness itself, a massive, grotesque eyeball appeared overhead. It was enormous, its size dwarfing them both as it floated silently in the void. Veins pulsed beneath its glistening surface, and its pupil—wide and unblinking—stared directly at them.
Athena's breath hitched. "What... is that?"
The eye didn't move, but its gaze was paralyzing as if it were dissecting their very souls. Cyrus clenched his jaw, feeling an immense weight press down on him just from being under its gaze. It felt familiar, in a way—like the Winter Deer they had encountered earlier, but far more intense, as though the forest itself was peering into their minds.
