The man on the altar turned to her, his lips curling into a warm smile. "Welcome, welcome. Are you one of our new followers?"
His words seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room. The cloaked figures, who had initially stared at her with suspicion, now regarded her with a strange, unsettling friendliness. Some even gestured for her to join them, waving their hands and softly chanting, "Come, come."
Victoria's instincts screamed at her to run. This place felt wrong—dangerous. But the sudden shift in the crowd's demeanor left her frozen. Desperation clawed at her chest, and she turned to the one person—or rather, the one sword—she trusted for guidance.
"What should I do, Asura?" she whispered mentally. "Run? Or stay?"
While Victoria focused on the people, William was scanning the room. He noticed something she hadn't: a potential exit at the back of the altar. It was partially hidden, but it looked like a way out.
