Lucavion froze the moment he heard the voice.
[GERALD?]
His breath caught in his throat, and his heart skipped a beat. The name echoed in his mind, bringing with it a flood of memories—memories of his master, Gerald, the man who had taught him everything he knew, the man who had been more than just a mentor.
The voice was not loud, but it was clear and resonant.
'No... it can't be,' Lucavion thought, his eyes darting around the cave in a frantic search for the source of the voice.
But there was nothing—only the dim light and the silence of the cave, save for the low, ragged breathing of the beast before him.
He hesitated, his grip on the estoc slackening for just a moment. He was certain he had heard the name, but where had it come from? He strained his ears, listening for any sign of movement, any clue that might reveal the speaker. But the cave was still, and the voice did not repeat itself.
