June pov
June's voice barely escaped his throat.
But the moment he spoke
Silence
Not quiet. Not a pause.
A stop
As if every kneeling corpse, every bent monster, every malformed worshipper had been struck with an unseen blade that severed their strings mid-act.
The chant ended in perfect, dead synchrony.
Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands.
All still.
All frozen in position.
The sudden absence of noise was not relief it was pressure. The void left behind by their voices was too complete. As though even the very air had forgotten how to vibrate.
June stood absolutely still, his sword limp in his hand, pulse hammering in his ears. He could feel his own heartbeat like a war drum now, out of place in the deadened church.
He opened his mouth to speak again—
Then they moved.
Not their bodies. Those remained utterly rigid.
But the sound returned.
Faint.
Dry.
Not spoken aloud, but heard, somehow, everywhere and nowhere. Not in the air. Not in the mind.
In the bones.
"…Help her…"
