The vines were pulsing.
He could feel it now not just see it. The rhythm wasn't visual anymore. It was inside him. A slow, measured throb like the beat of a second heart, not his own. It wasn't just around them. It was beneath everything.
But Gin didn't stop.
He had one more chance.
The others were lost, tangled in movements that no longer belonged to them. He had seen it. Touched it. Failed to shake them from their states. He had roared, growled, even howled loud enough to crack silence. Nothing had responded.
But Alice she wasn't like the others.
She had never been one for battle, never thrown herself into blood and dirt. She was quiet. Observant. Gentle to a fault, yes but her soul held a strength that didn't show in muscle or motion. After all how did she even came into existence that have to measured. Maybe that difference made her less entwined with whatever force had stolen the others.
So Gin kept going.
