"You... Brat. What did you just call me?!" Arachne's voice was filled with disbelief.
Adam met her gaze without hesitation. His chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, but his eyes remained steady, unwavering. He clenched his fists tighter, feeling the sting of his nails digging deeper into his palms.
"I called you mother," Adam said, his voice rough but firm. The word hung in the air like a blade, cutting through the echoes of dripping ichor and rattling chains.
Arachne froze. Her body was still pinned and trembling against the hundreds of nails, yet it was not the pain that silenced her now. Her expression twisted, eyes wide as though she had been struck. She searched his face as if expecting it to blur, to melt away into another illusion. But Adam did not waver. His presence was solid, undeniable.
