The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before he finally spoke, his voice sharp, each word a measured strike.
"When?" His gaze pinned Reves in place, unwavering. "Where? And how?"
The last word came out colder than ice, laced with a barely controlled anger that crackled beneath the surface. Reves swallowed hard, a bead of sweat forming on his brow.
"Father," Reves said, his voice trembling, "d-don't worry. The Reality Master I serve… he's not like the others. He's—he's good."
Nathan's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable.
"Good?" The word fell from his lips with a bitter edge, as if it were something foreign, something that could never belong in the same sentence as 'Reality Master.'
His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms taut with restraint.
