The third floor of the Beast House remained enveloped in its signature silence, a silence that was neither empty nor peaceful, but instead dense with restrained power and unspoken tension. Unlike the lower levels, where noise and movement defined the environment, this space thrived on control. Every beast within its reinforced enclosures held its strength in check, every formation embedded in the walls pulsed with quiet authority, and every breath taken within these halls seemed measured against an invisible standard.
Yet despite that cultivated stillness, something had undeniably shifted.
The balance that once defined the floor had been disturbed—not by chaos or destruction, but by the clash of wills that now stood at its center.
