Lukas' clone had just finished relaying all the intel it had gathered to Theresa, Ellice, Henry, and Branson. The group stood in a small clearing, tension hanging thick in the air. The information was dense, complicated, and everyone seemed to be processing it in their own way.
Theresa, ever the skeptic, furrowed her brows and broke the silence. "I don't understand all of this," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Was he, or is he an ice dragon?"
Lukas, standing with his arms crossed, responded calmly. "Judging from his aura, he isn't an ice dragon anymore. But," he paused, his eyes narrowing, "he was one, under Ghelgath and Eamon's control."
Branson, who had been quietly rubbing his chin like a wise sage contemplating the meaning of life, glanced over at Parker. Unlike the rest of them, Parker always seemed annoyingly composed, hands in his pockets, cool as ice.
