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Previously

…“The voice,” he said. “It speaks to them before they vanish.” Dzeze’s hand tightened on her camera. “You’ve heard it too?” “Not yet. But I will.” He turned back to her. “It wants to be heard. And when it speaks, I will be listening.” A shout broke the quiet. A woman came running down the road, her face pale, her apron flapping. “He’s gone!” she cried. “My husband—he went to the well this morning, and he never came back! The neighbors saw him walk toward the square, and then—nothing!” Dzeze looked at Erzvilkas. The pattern was tightening. The silence was growing louder. And somewhere beyond the edge of the forest, a whisper curled through the trees: The world will be cleansed.