With painstaking slowness, after making sure the noises beyond the heavy basement door have finally died down, Kimberly pushes it slightly open—just enough to create a narrow gap toward the atrium, ready to slam it shut at the first sign of danger.
Fortunately, there's no trace of those winged demons; their attention must have been drawn elsewhere. Kimberly steps out first and immediately motions for me to follow.
Now, the large debris from the collapsed ceiling filling the atrium—obstacles during our desperate run toward the basement—have become our salvation, allowing us to use them as cover to advance toward the mess hall unseen.
From the upper floors echo cries of fervor and pain, both human and demonic, a sign that the battle between the familiars and those creatures is raging at full force. As gruesome as those screams are, they reassure us—they mean many familiars are still alive. Our fear had been stepping out only to find ourselves surrounded by absolute silence.
