It happened when Nero decided to take a nap.
The morning had been long, filled with chess games and quiet conversation, with the weight of future plans pressing against the edges of their peaceful bubble. Using his newly evolved God's Eyes, even for that brief moment to glimpse Khione's information, had drained him more than he expected. The chess matches that followed—intense, focused, demanding—had finished the job.
His eyes felt heavy. His limbs were leaden. The bed was warm and soft, and Khione had murmured something about stepping out for a moment, leaving him alone in the quiet room.
Nero lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling for a long, drowsy moment. His thoughts drifted, formless and slow, carried on the current of approaching sleep.
