Constantin theatrically approached the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows and pulled back the sheer curtain.
The crowd gasped, and Sophia tensed alongside them. The twins' eyes glowed red. They were no longer the innocent little girls; instead, the painting unveiled them as foreboding Flavuses, cloaked in shadow.
“It looks quite creepy,” someone murmured from the crowd.
“This is amazing! What a play of colors,” another voice breathed out.
In Sophia's mind, the voices blended together, and she could no longer tell whether they were human or from the Guides.
“It feels like I’ve seen them somewhere before.”
She looked down and saw Lukas standing beside her.
“Hello, Lukas,” Sophia mumbled. “What are you doing here?”
“We came here with my mom and dad. Dad’s a collector. He takes us to different exhibitions and galleries all the time,” the boy replied, yawning as usual. “The painting is really beautiful. Maybe Dad will want to buy it —
In the distance, a shriek pierced the air. If people could have heard it, their eardrums would have burst.”
Sophia grimaced and turned to the very twins who had accompanied Lukas at the gas station.
As they swiftly approached the boy, their arms morphed into bat-like wings. They rushed toward him, enveloping him in a cocoon of their wings, their bodies merging into one, transforming them into Siamese twins.
Lukas instantly stopped smiling.
“Should we blame the boy for the fact that one individual's imagination can lead another to ponder? Kallidus is failing in his duties. I need to report how significant even a small breach in the dam can be,” muttered one of the twins.
“And how treacherous the consequences will be when the dam breaks, and a wave of circumstances sweeps over us all,” nodded the other.
“You know, Lukas, I think you’re too young for such a painting,” Sophia told the boy. “It’s more a fabrication from the realm of nightmares than something that carries goodness.”
“Well, thanks,” the twins replied in unison.
“Lorina, just listen to Ephor. Now we’re even a nightmarish vision,” one of them said.
“I think they’re good,” the boy insisted. “If only they were real, we could play together.”
“Edith, our boy can’t be scared so easily. Sometimes he has more courage than it seems. If an ant were to fear a large piece of bread, it would starve to death,” one twin replied.