"...."
The tent fell into a suffocating, almost tangible silence—so heavy it pressed on every chest, making breaths shallow, uneasy. The air itself seemed to freeze, as if time had paused for a moment of grim reckoning. Every person inside recoiled into the corners of their own private calamity, trapped in the gravity of the revelation.
For Hedrick, the news was nothing short of catastrophic. It wasn't merely that the Verillion seed was under threat —this had always been a known danger— but now… now, the scenario had shifted entirely, and the implications were almost unbearable.
In the first scenario, he had fought tooth and nail to achieve his dream, standing against individuals who bore personal grudges, those who might have acted out of envy, malice, or fear. Perhaps —if he had endured long enough— he might have survived their scrutiny, their attacks, even their subtle betrayals. Perhaps, one day, they would have retreated, leaving him to breathe freely again.
