Chen stared at her, his world tilting on its axis as her words penetrated the fortress of his grief and rage.
The artifact's calming influence helped him process what she was saying, but it was her tears—her apparent genuine concern for his well-being—that truly reached him.
'She... she really cares about me,' he thought, his heart beginning to pound for entirely different reasons. 'All this time, I thought I was alone, but she...'
Looking down at the ground, Chen clenched his jaw so hard that fresh blood welled between his teeth.
His free hand curled into a fist tight enough that his nails bit deep into his palm, drawing crimson drops that splattered onto the white stone platform.
"Yes... you're right," he said finally, his voice hollow with defeat and growing understanding. The rage was still there, burning like coals in his chest, but it was tempered now by something else—gratitude for the woman who had stopped him from throwing his life away.
