A tense, suffocating silence filled the air as Roda and I stared at the figure standing before us.
I loosened my grip on her arm, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. Every instinct I had was screaming—no, begging me to run. Now.
Whoever this guy was… he wasn't just strong.
He was a monster.
A terrifying, insurmountable presence pressed down on me like a mountain. Even if I used both the Sloth and Wrath Sins, even if I threw every trick I had at him, I wouldn't stand a chance. I felt that truth settle deep in my bones like frost.
Then he spoke.
"Well, well… I was wondering what happened to my dear little Medusa."
His voice was odd—distorted and flat, like a recording played back on broken speakers. No emotion, no cadence. Just hollow words.
And then, slowly, he raised his hand.
In it dangled a head—Medusa's head—her eyes closed forever and her neck slick with blood that still dripped in slow, glistening trails onto the ground.
