Li Wang stood at the edge of the chamber, his back pressed lightly against a fractured pillar, watching the pair in the center of the room.
Xing Yu knelt silently, arms wrapped protectively around Jian, who clung to him like a lifeline. The boy's golden hair shimmered faintly, his face buried in the Farian's chest. There was no sound now, no sobbing, no words—only the weight of their shared grief, heavy and suffocating, hanging in the air like fog.
Li Wang's heart twisted.
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
For years... he had known.
For years, he had turned a blind eye, aided the research, processed the data, delivered the files. At the time, it was just work. Numbers. Biology. A project far above his clearance, never asking questions he wasn't paid to ask.
Because back then…
He hadn't befriended a Farian.
