The echoes of the duel with Seraphiel still hung in the damp air of the chamber. Edward stood alone in the center of the madness, his chest heaving slightly. The great paladin lay defeated behind him, and ahead, the Heart of the Abyss pulsed with a rhythm that felt like a slow, deep drumbeat inside Edward's own skull.
It was over. Or at least, it should have been.
Edward took a step toward the pulsating artifact. His hand reached out, trembling just a little. The Whispering Blade in his grip was quiet for once, as if even the ancient soul inside the weapon was holding its breath.
Then, the air shifted.
It wasn't a sound. It was a feeling. A sharp, sudden pressure against the back of his neck. Edward didn't think; he just moved. He dropped his weight, spinning on his heel in a blur of motion.
Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.
