Chapitre 73: The Heaviness Of It All (2)

The dim light of a single torch flickered against the cold, damp walls of the underground prison.

Chains rattled softly as prisoners shifted in their restraints, their groans echoing through the suffocating space. The faint scent of mildew mixed with the stench of unwashed bodies and despair.

Among the countless cells, one stood out. The other Fialova, impossibly identical to the real one, was bound tightly against the back wall of her cell, wrists wrapped in sturdy iron shackles that kept her firmly secured.

Her head lolled forward slightly, strands of dark, sweat-matted hair clinging to her face. Days had passed since her imprisonment, but her spirit remained unbroken.

From somewhere beyond the shadows came the sound of boots clicking sharply against the stone floor.

Slow, deliberate, and growing louder.

Fialova's head snapped up, her gaze narrowing as she recognized the smug cadence.