As darkness cloaks us, my enhanced vision pierces through the night, granting me clarity amidst the obsidian veil. I watch intently as the S tier ghoul prowls around, its monstrous form outlined against the dim moonlight. Its keen senses strain to detect any movement, any sign of life within the maze's labyrinthine passages. Yet, Soza and I remain concealed in the shadows, safe from its searching gaze.
With a silent exhale of relief, Soza slumps to the ground, the tension draining from her weary frame. I join her, my muscles aching from the sustained exertion. Carefully, I release the occupants from my endless bag, allowing them to stretch their cramped limbs and find solace in the stillness of the night.
Dior approaches me, her presence a comforting embrace, but I hesitate to reciprocate. Despite her reassurances, a lingering sense of distrust gnaws at my conscience, a reminder of the tangled web of deceit that once ensnared us all.
