Air surrounding them was denser than the stone walls tightening on every side. Silence took the group after Stone's fall, a void of wordless grief.
Even Ethan, once the very lively spark of their journey, now sat with sunken eyes and quiet.
His lips trembled as he clutched his knees, fighting to keep a tenuous grip on sanity.
After a while a Arthur moved forward in careful steps. His features were impassive, yet behind the impassive mask was a deep hurt.
He had known grief far too well. On Earth, death had taken his parents in a merciless stroke, inflicting wounds deeper than any blade could inflict.
He had thought himself safeguarded against grief, yet the recollection of Stone's laughter still cut through his chest like broken glass.
The commanders followed close behind, each bearing their own wounds of sorrow, grim faces split by shock and muscles tight not from battle but from the effort of keeping themselves intact.
