Nero went absolutely still as his eyes darted around, every muscle locking into place.
Something had passed through the edge of his vision. Not fast enough to be dismissed outright, but not slow enough to be clearly tracked either. It was the kind of movement that existed in the margin between certainty and instinct, the sort that demanded attention without offering proof.
His breathing slowed, controlled and shallow.
The silence inside the ruin pressed in on him, heavy and unbroken. No shifting stone. No scuttling. No distant wind. Even the faint sounds from the forest beyond the walls felt muted here, distorted, as though the structure itself absorbed noise and refused to let it escape.
