Kafka sat silently, his gaze fixed out the window. Though his face remained unreadable, something behind his eyes had drifted far from the cozy breakfast setting.
He wasn't seeing the gentle sway of trees, the distant chatter of pedestrians, or the golden hue of morning light.
No. His mind was elsewhere, up there. In the skies.
In the world above, thinking about the absence of requests
He leaned slightly back in his seat, brows subtly furrowing.
'Evangeline...What are you up to now?'
And also his mother. A goddess of unfathomable power, and an even greater appetite for chaos. He still remembered the last time she had tried to breach the mortal realm.
The entire sky had cracked with thunder. Oceans stirred...Time itself seemed to slow.
He could still feel the pressure in his bones from that day. The deep hum of the world shaking, as if existence itself was trying to resist her descent.
And if she tried again…
