[Meanwhile, in Helen's perspective]
"Young Master!" Helen shouted, her voice trembling with urgency as she sprinted into the dimly lit room. Her boots slammed against the wooden floor, echoing through the suffocating silence. The moment she entered, a suffocating darkness greeted her. The air was thick with a fog so black it seemed alive, swirling ominously around the room and consuming everything in its path.
Junior stood at the center, his back straight, his silhouette barely visible through the dark haze. He turned sharply toward her, his expression tense but composed. "Helen, go and help Emma and the children! Hurry!"
"But—" Helen began, stepping forward instinctively, her heart clenching at the sight of him standing there alone.
"No!" Junior's voice thundered, cutting through the oppressive fog. "Go! I'll handle things here!" His gaze, fierce and commanding, left no room for argument.
