Aengus stood on the balcony, his gaze locked onto the horizon, where millions of lives thrived—yet the weight of sorrow hung in the air like an invisible storm cloud.
His expression was grave, his eyes unblinking, lost in deep contemplation.
The brutality of the Dark Faction's retaliation had far surpassed his expectations.
He had known Morgana's group would strike back, but never with such merciless force.
"Had he underestimated them?"
Or had he been so lost in his own world that he failed to properly protect those under his care?
A question echoed in his mind, sharp and relentless.
"Had he failed them?"
His hands clenched tightly, frustration welling up.
"But what else could I have done? I am not omnipotent." Aengus muttered under his breath, as if consoling himself with silent calm.
Behind him, Albert stood in silent tension.
His sharp instincts screamed at him—he could feel it. The Emperor was terrifyingly angry.
