“…I believe I am lost.”

Of course, the girl said this to no one in particular. Probably because there was no one around to hear her words. Even so, that did not deter her from making small side remarks as she walked along the hallways. 

“Interesting. It appears this house moves on its own,” she muttered. “A death trap I take it? But why would…it’s not my place to judge. The master does what the master wants. That’s all there is to it.”

Having reassured herself of the purpose of even entering this madhouse, the girl blinked once before continuing on her way. These hallways were rather long anyway, and it was doubtful she’d find her master here anytime soon. Perhaps she would stop and kindly ask for directions to the next batch of creatures she meets. 

Preferably less hostile ones. She had already wasted enough knives today.

Upstairs, at a considerable distance away from the traveling girl, the air began thick with tension and mistrust. The crudely made painting continued to remain dormant as Faira cringed back from the now demonic Adrian. Having sensed the return of this malevolent entity, Conna'Cel had set its weapons on him.

Now the staircase shook with the force of explosions and gunfire. The other paintings, each with the image of the man on them, suddenly combusted into piles of green fire. The flames leaped about greedily, moving on their own and consuming the walls around the group.

If they lingered too long, they would all perish. The painting of Faira watched on in silence.