To say that Xal had wrecked the whole room would be an understatement. The fury raging through his veins needed an outlet. Before Kian had even disappeared outside, he grabbed the chair he was sitting on before and smashed it over and over again, anything that caught his eye, until there were only a few pieces of wood barely hanging together, and there was no strength left in his limbs.
Ragged breaths filled the room as he collapsed into a heap, letting precious time bleed through cracks of his fractured heart.
He thought of making a list of shamans to gather information.
He thought of searching the Internet to trace even a single piece of evidence about Khem.
He thought of filing a report with the police.
He thought of spending every single second from now on hunting down Khem.
He thought of beating the life out of it and dragging it to his parents' feet to apologize.
He thought of all of this until his rage subsided enough for him to realize he knew nothing about Khem to do any of that. He doesn't know how to describe it, he doesn't know what it looked like, he didn't know a single thing.
And the only man who had at least seen Khem had already left. Xal was one step behind before he even began.
The clock ticked.
The AC hummed.
Vehicles honked.
He remembered.
The black card with lime-colored print.
He had a man to find.
It simply felt right above everything else.
He left the scattered thoughts inside the wrecked room, closing the door tight, not turning back.
Relief made itself known when no one stopped to ask for compensation as he exited.