Minutes after Lyra's escape, the slave barracks bore little resemblance to its former self. Shattered workbenches lay strewn among mangled corpses, the air thickened with blood-smog. Though Lyra had spared many in her flight, Rex left none alive of those who'd tormented him these long months. Their bodies formed grotesque landmarks in the ruin, faces forever twisted in last agony.
When the two seemed calmer and ready to move on with Vicente's resolution, he attracted the attention of the valley's high-ranking members and the newly freed slaves.
"Your reckoning has arrived, Lords of the Valley of Shadows," Vicente's voice carried a resonant command, yet strangely contained—only those within the crumbling walls could hear the pronouncement. "Debts owed to my companions demand repayment in blood… or service." A beat of silence, heavy as an executioner's axe. "Consider this mercy: You'll serve me in Anicane's shadows and Hell's furnaces—in life, and far beyond death."
