Cruzer froze mid-step, his boots barely making a sound against the stone floor as Gin's words echoed in his mind.
"Realmwalkers?"
The term hung in the air like a thunderclap, reverberating through his thoughts. It felt foreign yet oddly familiar, stirring something deep within him—a flicker of recognition that he couldn't quite place.
The momentary stillness gave way to a surge of energy coursing through his veins, as if the word itself carried power.
Gin's tone shifted almost immediately, laced with an uncharacteristic hesitation. "Forget I said that," the ancient soul muttered hurriedly, a rare note of alarm breaking through his usually composed demeanor.
Cruzer's brow furrowed. "Forget it? You just casually dropped a bombshell, Gin. What does 'Realmwalker' mean? And why do I feel like it's important?"
Gin sighed, a deep, almost reluctant exhalation that resonated within Cruzer's mind like the mournful echo of a distant storm.
