The chill in the air was unmistakable, sharp enough to pierce through their nerves. It wasn't just the cold—there was a darkness creeping through the shadows, a malevolent presence that seemed to thicken the air around them. Stella's hand tightened around the hilt of her dagger, her eyes scanning the darkness, searching for any sign of the enemy. She could feel William's presence—he was near, lurking somewhere just beyond their sight, waiting to strike.
Bryan shifted beside her, his posture tense. "Whatever it is, we need to move fast. We can't fight him here, not without the others."
Sylvia stood frozen for a moment, her face pale as she stared at the open vault. The artifact, glowing faintly in her hand, was their only hope of stopping William, and now that they had it, their chances of survival had just become even slimmer. William would know they had it, and he wouldn't stop until he got it back.
