The flickering spiritfire painted the cave walls with dancing shadows, a stark contrast to the raw emotions that had just been laid bare. Lusica stood at the entrance, a silent sentinel, his golden aura now a faint hum. Arthur, still translucent, lay in a healing trance. Ali continued to polish his sigil-stone, the rhythmic motion a testament to his ingrained discipline.
Tiara, however, couldn't sit still. Lusica's confession, raw and devoid of self-pity, echoed in her mind. He had tried to kill Diana. The words were a brand. Yet, the anguish in his voice, the sheer weight of his guilt, made it impossible to simply condemn him. She looked at Arthur, a phantom ache in her own chest. His burden was immense, encompassing not just their present danger, but a past that had shattered worlds and twisted souls.
She walked over to Ali, who paused his polishing. "He… he really did that?"
