The wind screamed through the icy peaks as Xavier and Luna pressed onward. The storm had swallowed the strange figure as though it had never existed, leaving behind only an eerie silence. But the words it had spoken hung in the air like a curse, heavy and suffocating. Every step Xavier took felt weighted with doubt and dread, the kind that no amount of battle experience could shake.
Luna walked beside him, silent, her eyes occasionally darting toward him with unspoken concern. She didn't ask any more questions, didn't probe at the wound the figure had tried to tear open. But the tension between them was palpable, a shadow that followed their every step.
"Do you believe it?" Luna finally asked, breaking the silence as they reached the base of the mountain. Her voice was low, careful.
Xavier kept his eyes forward, his hand unconsciously tightening around Anathema. "I don't know what to believe anymore."
