Adam's Retreat

Julius's breath caught in his throat as Adam's eyes—those brilliant orbs that had blazed with otherworldly fire—suddenly dimmed like dying stars. His brother's consciousness vanished into whatever realm claimed him, leaving only inert mist behind.

The shift struck Julius like a physical blow. One moment, Adam had been present, vital, scheming; the next, he was little more than a breathing statue. The weight of solitude crashed down upon Julius's shoulders with crushing finality.

"Are you alright, Julius?" Asha's voice snapped him from his thoughts.

She studied his face with merchant's precision, cataloguing the rapid transformation from joy to bewilderment to something approaching despair. His expressions shifted like weather patterns across a storm-torn sky.

"I am," Julius managed, his smile tasting of ash and bitter truths.