Eira reached the room, her heart pounding in her chest. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and blood. As her eyes scanned the wrecked space, she froze when she saw Junior lying on the floor, motionless. Her breath caught, and she rushed forward, calling out in desperation.
"Your Majesty!"
But before her voice could echo, a sharp creaking noise cut through the tension like a blade. She spun around, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her sword. Her eyes widened as she saw Serah stepping out of the shadows, her expression unnervingly calm. She dragged Junior's sword across the ground, the metal screeching against the floor. Sparks danced in her wake, the sound a cruel mockery of what was to come.
Eira's eyes darted between Serah and Junior, her mind racing. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Serah raised the sword high above her head, its edge gleaming ominously in the dim light. Her intent was clear.
