The sun above Antrim hung low, casting long golden rays across the ivory spires and crystalline structures of the Nexus Citadel. The air shimmered faintly with residual magic as a silent tension wrapped the sacred halls. Zark stood alone on one of the high balconies, his gaze lost in the shifting clouds that drifted beyond the horizon. Despite his calm expression, his heart weighed heavily with things unsaid, with emotions still foreign even to someone as old and powerful as he was.
Behind him, quiet footsteps broke the silence. Trevor approached with caution—not out of fear, but uncertainty. He stood at the threshold, arms folded, red eyes narrowed.
"You've been up here a while," Trevor said, his voice neutral.
Zark didn't turn. "I needed air. The world feels smaller now that everything's changed."
Trevor leaned against the railing, not quite beside Zark but not too far either. "You mean now that you're suddenly our... father?"
