The creature didn’t attack.
It sang.
A low, guttural hum that made the washers upstairs shake and the neon lights buzz in response.
“It’s broadcasting memory,” Amya’Rose whispered. “Dominion creatures don’t think — they echo. This one remembers war.”
Ayden Leath stepped forward, shirt unbuttoned halfway like he didn’t care if the apocalypse came in hot. “Cool. What if we don’t want the war vibes though?”
“We silence it,” Trinity Ingram replied, stepping through a column of steam with a fresh pair of gloves laced in runes. “This isn’t a fight, it’s a reset.”
She raised her hand. The song halted. The creature tilted its head, confused.
Then lunged.
Amya’Rose caught its movement mid-air, redirecting the echo-song into the walls. Ayden slammed it with a pulse burst, and Trinity drove her gloves into its chest, twisting.
It froze.
Collapsed.
But even in death, it whispered:
“He sleeps… still turning.”
