Two days passed like slow torture.
Damien gave Elara the space she'd requested, though every hour of separation made the corruption worse. He stayed in his study, surrounded by research on Seria Thornwood, planning approaches that felt increasingly mechanical as his emotional capacity eroded.
The corruption had stabilized at 7.7% – not increasing without power usage, but not decreasing either. He existed in a state of coldness that made tactical thinking easy and human connection nearly impossible.
His father visited once, took one look at Damien's eyes, and quietly arranged for guards to monitor him. Not to protect others from him – not yet – but to ensure he didn't do something irrevocable while in this state.
Margaret brought food he didn't eat and spoke comforting words he barely processed.
And at night, alone in quarters that felt too large without Elara's presence, Damien stared at the ceiling and tried to remember what loving her felt like beyond the value of anchor bond.
