"Scapegoat. That's their real aim."
Kalliope wasn't sure what went on in her head the moment she heard that. All she knew was by the time she had snapped out of her reverie, her heart was already beating rigorously with rage as its main source of energy. And aside from wrath itself, she could feel a sense of worry gradually seeping into her body like a thousand ants crawling on her skin.
It was the same kind of primal instinct that one would get when something bad or dangerous was about to befall them. And Kalliope found it difficult to ignore this feeling for some reason yet she wasn't able to put her fingers on it. What was it that disturb her so?