A sharp crack echoed through the woods—the sound of a branch snapping underfoot—followed by the soft crunch of deliberate footsteps.
A shadowed figure emerged from the tree line, pausing at the edge of a low cliff that overlooked a distant mansion nestled in the valley below.
As the clouds shifted and moonlight spilled across the land, it illuminated the figure where he stood—his golden hair catching the silver glow, his piercing green eyes glowing like twin embers in the dark.
Leaning against a tree, he pressed his clenched fist to the trunk. His jaw was tight, breath measured but heavy with restraint. Anger simmered beneath his calm exterior, not yet erupting—but near.
After a long pause, Julius struck the tree with a sudden, explosive punch. Bark cracked. Leaves fluttered loose, drifting downward—only to be swept away by a silent gust of wind, carried softly in the direction of the mansion below.
Thud.
