The taunts echoed beyond the threshold of the sacred chamber, the voices of the "group" shifting between mockery and pleading.
"Kael, please come out! We need you to help us find the last idol fragments," Talia's voice called out, her tone sickeningly sweet.
"I'm tired, Kael," came Jarek's rough voice. "Let's just finish this together. I'll even let you take the glory. We're a team, aren't we?"
Sometimes, it was softer—gentle, almost soothing. Other times, it was shrill and desperate.
"Kael, they're not me! I'm the real one!" Talia screamed, her voice cracking. "I'm not one of them! You have to believe me!"
He didn't flinch, didn't move.
It had been 45 days of this—day after day of incessant taunts, screams, and whispers from the creatures that mimicked the people he once thought were his companions.
