The ground rumbled beneath their feet, sending loose vials clattering off shelves. Damien steadied himself against the lab table, his sharp eyes darting toward Dr. Kellan.
“You said this Shadow King was a myth,” Damien snapped, his voice thick with accusation.
“I hoped he was,” Kellan replied, his face ashen. “But these mutations… they aren’t natural. Something—or someone—is controlling them.”
Mira paced near the sealed doors, her blade gripped tightly in her hands. “So, what’s the plan? We wait here and hope he knocks politely?”
A deafening roar tore through the fortress, louder than anything Damien had ever heard. Dust rained down from the ceiling as another tremor rippled through the walls.
“No time for sarcasm,” Damien muttered. He turned to Kellan. “Do you have anything in this lab that can help us fight?”