Chapter 217: Hall of Mirrors
"Don’t. Move."
Damien’s command was a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a whip.
Isabelle stood frozen, her chest heaving. The statue behind her, the Angel that had dropped from the cliff was inches from her nose.
Its stone claws were hooked, ready to tear out her throat. Its mouth was a frozen scream of hunger.
"Master..." Isabelle breathed, her eyes watering. "I can’t... I can’t keep staring."
"Formation," Damien snapped. "Back to back. Now."
They stepped together, their spines pressing against each other.
Damien faced the path ahead, where twelve Angels blocked the way. Isabelle faced the rear, staring down the one that had almost killed her.
"We’ll walk slowly," Damien ordered. "Shuffle step. Do not lift your feet off the ground."
They began to move. It was a torture of physiology.
The grey ash in the air was relentless. It dried out their corneas, stinging like acid. Every instinct in the human body screamed to blink, to wash away the grit.
"Blinking in three," Damien counted down, his voice steady despite the sweat dripping down his mask.