The War that was to come

Erik left Noah's room, his mind still buzzing with the potential and complexity of their project. But another matter was calling for his attention. With purpose in mind, he deftly dialed Lysa's number, his fingers dancing over the device.

The call connected, and Lysa's voice came through the speaker, warm and familiar. "Erik," she greeted, a touch of relief in her tone. "I'm glad you called. How are things on your end?"

Erik's response was calm and collected. "Good. I called to find out about the situation in the slums. Any news?"

There was a pause, and Erik could almost hear Lysa's worried frown. "The police are investigating," she drawled. "They're asking around, trying to piece together what happened. But all they have is the description of two masked people, which could fit anyone."

Erik's lips quirked in a small smile. "That's good to hear. So, they don't have any leads?"