Scene 1 – The Corridor of Whispers
The corridor ahead shimmered with a strange light, golden and shifting, like sunlight through molten glass. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls, whispering in voices that were almost familiar.
Jemil's chest throbbed with the pulse of the curse, each beat sending heat crawling over his skin. His wives flanked him, alert and tense. Mira's hands were ready to summon water, Lura's claws twitched, Yura's smirk was tight but uneasy, and Alvara's sword glinted faintly in anticipation.
The swordmaster's steps were deliberate. Every movement measured. "The Tower… it doesn't just test strength here," she said quietly. "It wants to break our minds. To fracture what binds us."
The whispers intensified, coiling around their thoughts. Names, regrets, doubts—all spoken softly, yet cutting like blades. Jemil tightened his fists. He had survived storms, packs, and sentient swords. This was psychological warfare.
