The laughter that echoed through the room wasn't human. It was something else entirely - a sound that seemed to ripple through reality itself, bending and twisting the very fabric of existence.
Imara's liquid-metal sphere pulsed, creating a barrier that felt more like a thought than a physical shield. Her fingers moved frantically across her now-fractured device, muttering something that sounded like an ancient incantation.
"Not good," she said, her previous composure completely shattered.
Kai's werewolf instincts kicked into overdrive. Every hair on his body stood on end, sensing something beyond supernatural threat. "Define 'not good'," he demanded.
The laugh continued - sometimes distant, sometimes so close it felt like it was inside their heads.
Samantha's fingers tightened around Callum's letter. The paper seemed to react to the sound, its edges becoming momentarily translucent before solidifying again.
