The snap of brittle bones. The final, fading pulse of a heart that had stopped beating.
Each death was like a note in a symphony, and she was the conductor of this.
Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty, it showed no sigh of stopping.
The spell continued for what felt like an eternity.
However, in truth, it was less than five minutes. But within that darkness, time lost meaning. The cyclopes experienced every second as an hour, every minute as a day. Their minds, already simple, broke long before their bodies did. Some laughed hysterically. Some fell into catatonic silence. Some attacked each other, blind with terror, tearing apart their own kin in a desperate attempt to feel something other than the consumption.
Lilith watched them all.
