Ethan's eyes widened, disbelief etched across his face.
This was the first time he had ever heard a creature from the Sanctum speak. Not growl, not shriek, not emit guttural noises—speak actual words.
Even Gray, despite their deep bond, had never formed words. Their connection was strong, yes, but limited to shared instinct and emotion. They could feel each other's intent, but never thoughts. Never language.
And yet, this Prime had just spoken. In full, intelligible sentences.
"Did you just speak?" Ethan asked before he could stop himself, momentarily forgetting the horde of zombies that surrounded him on all sides.
The Prime didn't answer his question. Instead, it stared at him, those decayed yet intelligent eyes scanning his body like a machine running diagnostics.
"You have our scent," the Prime rasped. "But you are not one of us."
The voice sent chills crawling down Ethan's spine—not because it was threatening, but because it sounded too human, too aware.
