Wearing the Monocle, Lorne walked straight ahead.
One step, two steps, three... He never paused, maintaining a strange, unchanging rhythm. Within a few steps, he had climbed onto the platform.
Then he bent his knees slightly, leaned forward, and reached out with both hands to turn the heavy picture frame over.
As the frame turned over, an invisible gale seemed to sweep through the Mausoleum, which had been sealed for thousands of years, scattering the restraints and silence that had frozen time.
The white candles on the iron-colored stands ignited instantly. Their flames grew extraordinarily bright, lighting the entire Main Burial Chamber as brightly as day.
But soon, the wax melted at an astonishing speed, pooling into puddles before the flames went out completely. On the floor, the corpses with their shriveled skin and white hair rapidly rotted and decayed before their eyes, turning into dry bones and releasing a nauseating stench.
Within mere seconds, the fairly bright Main Burial Chamber grew dim again. Only the lantern on the floor still gave off a faint glow.
"This..." Sharron seemed dazed as she stared in disbelief at everything happening around her.
She glanced around and saw that everything had returned to normal. The sluggish sensation of being trapped in a swamp had also disappeared.
Without hesitation, she hurriedly floated over to Lorne.
"How are you?"
"Are you all right?"
Lorne did not answer. He simply stood there with his head lowered, motionless as a statue.
"You..." At the sight, Sharron's heart sank. Recalling the terrifying effect of the Ghost Picture Frame, she began to tremble slightly.
Could it be... his soul was...
"You weren't..."
"No... that's impossible..."
A tremor crept into her voice. She could no longer maintain the unruffled calm of a Wraith.
"Lorne..."
"Mm..."
That trembling call finally drew