He tilted his head slowly, almost curious.
One foot stepped forward, grinding over shattered tile.
"You..." he said, voice low.
"You're the one who said this would end fast."
His neck rolled. The bones cracked—once, twice.
Stone around his feet began to flake and lift, trembling from the weight of his aura.
He looked at First.
At Second.
Then at the pile of rubble Seventh was dragging himself out of.
Gurdan spread his arms slightly, like a conductor waiting for the next note.
"…Well?"
The light in his eyes pulsed.
"Try again."
A sudden shift in the air.
Screams, hundreds—faint but distant, carried on the wind through shattered palace windows.
Women. Soldiers. Civilians.
All screaming.
Gurdan paused, one foot mid-step.
His ear twitched.
"…Hmm?" His brow furrowed. "What's that noise?"
A cold voice echoed.
"Gurdan."
His eye twitched slightly.
"I can feel it."
"Edmund is here."
Gurdan's smirk vanished for a heartbeat.
"…For real?"
"Yes~"
