The room was thick with an oppressive atmosphere, every creak of the ship amplified by the silence. The earlier chill had evolved into something darker—something malevolent. Now even they could feel it, a suffocating malice that pressed down on them like invisible chains.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound cut through the air like a blade, slow and deliberate.
Stacy's lips trembled as she whispered to herself, her voice so faint it barely escaped her lips, let alone reached the door. "Who's… out there?"
There was no reply.
She turned to Haru instinctively, expecting him to take charge like he always seemed to. But when her eyes darted to where he had been standing, her heart skipped a beat.
He was gone.
"Haru?" she breathed, louder this time.
Obal and Bruce exchanged uneasy glances before searching the room with their eyes.
"What… where did he go?" Obal stammered, her voice tinged with panic.
