The grand grandfather clock in the corner of the mass room let out a heavy, resonant tick, and the second hand began its slow, torturous crawl across the dial. The air in the communal space was freezing, yet it felt as if a thick, invisible wall of electricity had been dropped between the two men, turning the empty room into an arena of raw, unchecked tension.
Kaelan sat back in the deep leather armchair, his posture relaxed yet brimming with a calculated control. His eyes caught the amber light of the recessed panels, reflecting an unsettling, crystalline brilliance as he stared directly at Marcus.
"Don't look away, Marcus," Kaelan murmured, his voice a low, musical rasp that seemed to vibrate against the high ceiling of the empty room. "The wager is observation. If you are going to prove your incompatibility, you must look at the variable you are attempting to dismiss."
