Time stopped.
The Circle members froze mid-gesture, water droplets crystallized in midair, and even the writhing shadows on the walls stuttered to absolute stillness. Reality held its breath, caught between one heartbeat and the next.
Only Arthur remained unfrozen, his consciousness existing in a pocket dimension between seconds.
She materialized from the spaces between reality—not appearing so much as always having been there. The Primordial Succubus defied mortal comprehension, her form shifting between impossible beauty and something far more ancient.
"My beloved vessel," her voice was seductive. "Finally, we speak without those tiresome chains binding you."
Arthur forced himself to meet her gaze, even as every instinct screamed to look away. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been a distant presence, offering power through his system. Now, with his bonds severed, she stood before him in all her terrible glory.
