'You've Done So Well'

Florian felt his breath hitch, his entire body tensing as a cold shiver ran down his spine. His fingers twitched slightly against the table, but he barely noticed.

The memory—or whatever it was—lingered in his mind like a phantom whisper, slipping between his thoughts like grains of sand through his fingers.

'What… was that?'

It felt too real to be a fabrication of his imagination, yet too distant and unfamiliar to be something he had actually lived through. Heinz's voice echoed in his ears, low and deep, carrying a strange finality.

'You've done so well, Florian. Just let it happen.'

Florian swallowed hard, his pulse hammering against his ribs. 'What did he mean by that?' What had he supposedly done well? He didn't recall ever hearing those words from Heinz before. But it wasn't just the words—it was the way it felt.

Like a memory buried just beneath the surface, waiting to be uncovered.

"Prince Florian?"