Alexander and the Fat Elf walked down a narrow corridor. The glass walls shimmered, lights reflecting and scattering like shards of sunlight. Outside, the afternoon sun burned bright, pouring its gold through the transparent walls.
Their footsteps echoed, crisp and lonely — each step announcing their arrival.
Alexander hesitated, glancing back as he moved forward, the weight of his choice gnawing at him. He had left Greg and the new enemies behind — sprawled unconscious atop the roof. A powerful force still pinned them down, their limbs unmoving. Greg had fallen too. Whether he was dead or merely unconscious remained uncertain.
"Don't worry about them," the Elf said, trying to ease the tension in Alexander's stride.
"You've got bigger things to worry about."
His words carried something else beneath them — hidden meaning, maybe even a warning.
Alexander didn't answer. He stayed silent, unsure whether to take the elf's tone as a threat or advice.
