Athena and her team sat quietly in Mr. Yao's modest wooden home, the faint scent of burning incense lingering in the air.
Rain tapped against the windows like fingers drumming on glass, each droplet adding to the unease that settled over them.
Mr. Yao's grim retelling of the neighboring village's fate left a chill that no fire could dispel.
The room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp, its flickering flame casting jagged shadows across the walls.
Lisa sat closest to the fire, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, face pale and drawn.
Marco leaned against the wall, absentmindedly twisting a loose thread from his sleeve, while Darren paced back and forth, occasionally glancing out the window as if expecting something monstrous to emerge from the rain-soaked forest.
Athena sat quietly at the table, her fingers interlocked beneath her chin.
