The room was filled with a quiet stillness, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a distant clock.
Michael and Mitchelle sat together, the weight of year past hanging in the air like a veil.
Their conversation had turned, as it often did, toward their son, Anthony.
Despite the opulence of their surroundings, the comfort of their home, and the knowledge of their immense power, a subtle tension lingered between them.
Mitchelle's gaze, distant and pensive, remained fixed on the far horizon, her mind lingering on the absence that had pervaded her life.
For over a decade, she had been used to Anthony's presence, even when he was distant in his training or his journeys.
But now, it had been too long.
It had been nearly a year since they had last felt his presence, and the quiet gap between then and now weighed heavily on her.
"I can't feel him"
She murmured softly, the words carrying a quiet edge of frustration.
