Azreal's Room
Azreal sat in the chair like he'd been glued there for hours, eyes fixed on the sky outside his window. The clouds weren't even moving fast, but he looked at them like they were carrying answers.
Sarah's panel flickered into the air with a soft hum.
"My lord, what's the matter? You seem… spaced out?"
Azreal didn't lift his gaze. "It's nothing."
Sarah blinked like she didn't believe a word. "Seeing you here means ACTS haven't arrived yet, right?"
"No, they haven't. Still the regular shop routine out there," he murmured.
"I see. Any news from Hermes?" she pressed.
That finally made his eyes shift from the window. "No. Not yet. It seems he hasn't figured out anything. The Gods are quite secretive, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are," Sarah said quietly. "But still… I didn't think the Caffé would face a problem like this."
Azreal sighed—one of those tired, almost defeated ones. "Well, it's not like I expected the mission to be easy."
"Fair point," Sarah muttered.
