Apollo did not even turn back.
Why should he care about some random kid's rambling?
Apollo walked into his shadow, off to claim his results.
...
Otis The Second's gaze lingered on the window.
He clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palms.
As the blood dripped down, he turned back to look at his father.
"...Dad."
He walked over and lifted his father's lifeless hand.
"Why... why did this have to happen?"
Otis The Second began to sob.
"Dad... I never thought this day would come so fast."
He closed his eyes and tilted his head down.
"I will inherit the legacy, as I promised."
With renewed determination, Otis The Second left the room.
He traversed down the palace until he reached the bottom floor.
Otis The Second came to a rather small room.
The place was only a few meters high, making most feel cramped.
The walls were made of stone. In front of him was a set of faint white magical scrawlings. It appeared to be the design of a convoluted flower.
