In Tristan's chamber, August and Tristan stood side by side, their eyes fixed on Claire as she lay submerged in a tub filled with a nourishing, rejuvenating green liquid that Tristan had meticulously created. Her body remained motionless, her eyes tightly shut as if trapped in a deep slumber.
August broke the silence, his voice tinged with concern. "Has anything changed since we last spoke?"
Tristan shook his head, his gaze never leaving Claire's still form. "No, Faction Leader August. She has remained the same. Despite the nourishing liquid and the treatments I've administered, her condition persists."
A furrow formed on his brow as he continued, "It seems we were mistaken in assuming her condition was purely physical. There is a deeper, spiritual ailment at play here. All the external measures we have taken should have yielded results by now."
