And just like that, the days in the encampment continued, flowing forward with the same structure, the same duties and the same sounds of clashing metal and marching boots.
Yet beneath the routine, there lingered something subtle… something that's difficult to name.
It was not disorder, nor was it grief openly acknowledged. Rather, it felt like a quiet absence, like a space no one admitted had once been filled.
Kent, Justin, and Louie carried on with their responsibilities as usual. Their schedules remained unchanged but conversations between them had grown shorter. Where there had once been casual remarks or passing complaints, there was now mostly silence.
None of them mentioned Soren directly, yet his name seemed to lingered on their minds, unspoken between pauses.
Hector and Melissa, on the other hand, appeared untouched by the shift.
