What happened in the next few minutes shattered the atmosphere like a cracked mirror.
Cassandra began to speak—and not just speak. She poured. Her voice a river, her visions spilling out like the dam of divine restraint had finally burst. Every word was soaked in prophecy. Raw. Bleeding. Drenched in truths too heavy for normal mouths to carry.
Cassandra's voice spilled out, a flood of shattered visions crashing into the room like a tidal wave breaking through dam walls long cracked by fate. Her words weren't just sounds—they were things, dripping with ancient power and raw emotion, pressing into the air until it felt thick, suffocating, and impossibly heavy.
Parker sat frozen, the weight of every revelation twisting his gut like a razor coil. His eyes, vast galaxies themselves, shimmered with unshed tears—brilliant stars on the verge of collapse. His breath hitched, catching in his chest like a trapped starling desperate to escape a cage of grief and awe.
