James stood frozen, his eyes locked on the markings carved into the wall. His chest rose and fell sharply, disbelief painting his features. Arts, actual arts, inscribed right there before him. His voice came out low, almost reverent, "Was it… the Lord's clone that did this?"
He didn't linger on the question. Deep down, he already knew the answer. Only Leon could have left such a gift behind. James stepped closer, his gaze tracing the etchings, the strokes that seemed almost alive with intent. I wonder what grade it is… he thought, awe and curiosity wrestling within him.
"Captain," Carl's voice broke the silence, urgent. "There's more here."
James's head snapped around, his heart kicking in his chest. He strode to where Carl stood and froze again. Another art. Entirely separate, yet just as profound. The thought that struck him next felt impossible, and yet the evidence spread before him left no room for denial.
