The Room felt emptier than ever. Despite the victory at the Abyssal Core and the miraculous revival of Neil and Mary, the absence of Cain, Lawrence, Arthur, and Lena was a constant, haunting presence. The surviving members of the team were each grappling with the weight of their losses, their grief threatening to overwhelm them.
Wil sat in the training area, staring blankly at the holographic targets he was supposed to be practicing on. His hands trembled slightly, and he couldn't shake the image of his fallen friends. The way Cain had stood firm against impossible odds, the fierce determination in Lawrence's eyes, Arthur's calculated precision, and Lena's unyielding spirit—each memory cut deeper than the last.
Aralina joined him, her normally bright demeanor subdued. She sat beside Wil, her Elemental Gauntlets hanging loosely at her sides. "Wil, how are you holding up?" she asked, though she knew the answer.
