The Mask Falls
Very quickly, the ominous aura in the room dissipated entirely.
The last threads of gray mist dissolved like ash in sunlight.
The golden radiance surrounding Julian D'Aurelius flickered once—then vanished, as if it had never existed.
Silence fell.
Heavy. Sacred.
Then—
Breath returned to the room.
Back it returned, lopsided. Each breath jagged, then unsteady - a pause between gasps, like surfacing through thick water. The Valquins rose separately, bodies stiff, some lagging behind, palms flat on ribs just to feel the pulse beneath skin. Their fingers stayed pressed, waiting.
A soft chuckle slipped out from the girl by the rear. It cracked halfway through.
"…It's gone… it's actually gone…"
A silence followed. Not from refusal - but each person caught inside their own doubt.
A second ago, the heavy pressure pressed hard on their chest, tightened round their neck, pulled thoughts into a deep, quiet void. Then - empty air. Like it vanished without a trace.
