The silence that followed Eleanor's fall was heavy. Klein remained motionless on the edge of the broken ledge, his fingers still clawing at the cold and sterile rock. His eyes, usually so calm and calculating, were fixed on the gaping darkness of the depths where the silhouette of the dark elf had just disappeared.
'Eleanor...' he thought, a brutal contraction tightening his heart. However, despite the shock, a spark of lucidity remained in him. He knew Eleanor.
'She is strong,' he murmured to himself internally to calm the trembling of his hands. 'If anyone can survive such a fall in Tenebris, it's her. She won't let herself be killed so easily.
A hand rested on his shoulder, abruptly pulling him from his dark thoughts. He turned and faced Amaera Castillon. The vice-director was watching him. Her marble face was stained with basaltic dust, but her ice aura still pulsed with a frightening regularity.
