Arthur and Aziel looked at her confused, their minds struggling to process the directness of her question. The weight of her intimidating presence still pressed down on them like a physical force, making it difficult to think clearly. Arthur's throat felt dry as sandpaper, and he could feel his palms growing clammy with nervous sweat.
The question echoed in his mind over and over again: Do you want to leave? It seemed so simple on the surface, yet loaded with implications that made his head spin. Was this some kind of test? Was she genuinely offering them an escape route, or was this her way of weeding out the weak before they even began?
Finally, after what felt like another small eternity of suffocating silence, Arthur managed to find his voice, though it came out smaller and more uncertain than he would have liked.
"E-excuse me?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
