SHRILL AND SCREAMS

I stepped forward cautiously, watching Dravon Akasha's eyes flicker with a twisted mix of hatred and disdain. His gaze darkened as it shifted from Silas to Talon, finally landing on Kieran. The air around us thickened with animosity as Dravon's lips curled into a sneer. "Traitor," he spat, his voice dripping with venom, eyes never leaving Kieran's face.

Kieran did not flinch. But before he could respond, Maxwell's low chuckle broke the tension. "The last time I saw you, Dravon," Maxwell taunted with a smirk, "you were nothing more than a rejected bastard—thrown away by your own Akasha family. How does that feel now?"

Dravon growled, his fists clenched tight, the veins on his neck pulsating with anger. The realization must have hit him that Maxwell's words were more than just mockery—they were a distraction. Maxwell was buying us time, pulling Dravon's focus away so we could get closer to Aragat, closer to placing the crystal into the heart core.