As if on cue, the horde of glowing-eyed thralls began to advance. Their steps were slow but deliberate, an ominous unity in their movements that made the hairs on the back of Ella's neck stand on end. She could hear the shuffle of their feet, the faint breathlessness in their voices, as though they were moving against their will.
From the other side of the hall, the Phantom Lady watched with an amused smirk curling her lips. She crossed her arms lazily, her pale fingers tapping rhythmically against her forearm. Her glowing crimson eyes glistened with cruel delight as she watched the four intruders struggle with their dilemma.
"They won't fight them," she whispered softly to herself, her voice barely audible above Abby's low growl. "Humans are so predictable. So weak."
She tilted her head, almost nostalgically. "I was once like them... afraid to hurt my precious people," she mused, her smile darkening. "But in the end, I realized the truth."
