The Theatre of Nightmares remained frozen, every soul within locked in the moment.
All eyes were on the figure above. Some filled with dread, others with confusion, but none with understanding. It wasn't just the unnatural presence of the man that unsettled them—it was the fact that they didn't recognize him.
In a place like this, that meant danger.
Medusa's reaction was different. She wasn't afraid, not yet. Her concern was sharper, more focused.
Who was this? What did he want?
Pantheress, on the other hand, moved instinctively. Her posture lowered, muscles tensed, tail flicking just slightly behind her. Ready to strike.
Medusa, pushing her concern aside, fully turned to face him. Her arms folded, her chin lifted ever so slightly as she addressed him.
"Who are you? What do you want here?"
