A thick silence enveloped the forest. No sound of birds, no whispers of the wind, not even the buzzing of insects. Everything seemed unnaturally still.
In the midst of that stillness, Raphael stood alone.
And in front of Raphael stood the boy with white hair and melancholic eyes. Axel.
Raphael held his sword at his side—not raised, not lowered. He simply stared at the Arkanis boy with a cautious, yet non-hostile gaze.
A moment of silence passed before Raphael whispered:
"You're strange... You don't seem like the others."
Axel turned his face slightly, as if the words meant nothing to him.
Raphael did not retreat. In his eyes, there was only silence. "You're not like the rest of the Arkanis. You don't scream with lust for death... You don't charge in madness as they do. So what are you?"
Axel finally raised his head and looked at Raphael. His eyes held no hostility... but neither did they hold kindness. They were still, tired—as if he had seen a thousand ends to the world.
