The moment Aether stepped fully onto the third floor of the Beast House, he immediately understood that this place operated under an entirely different set of rules.
It was not simply a matter of structure or design, nor was it just about the rarity of the beasts contained within. The difference ran far deeper than that—it was something that could be felt rather than seen, something that lingered in the air like an unspoken truth.
This floor was fundamentally different.
Unlike the lower levels, where noise and movement blended into a constant, restless hum, the third floor was enveloped in silence. It was not the absence of sound that made it unusual, but rather the nature of the silence itself. It was heavy, deliberate, and controlled, as though every element within this space had been carefully restrained.
There were no beasts growling in agitation, no energy surging uncontrollably, and no chaotic movements within their enclosures. Everything was still.
Perfectly still.
