Robert's mind had gone blank.
He stood suspended in the air, his extended palm still glowing with divine brilliance—yet unmoving, useless, paralyzed. A fragment of thought tried to claw its way up his throat, but no words followed. It was as if the very concept of speech had fled him.
This—
His mouth parted. His lips trembled.
He tried to issue a warning. A command. A threat.
But nothing came out.
The silence clung to him like frost, creeping into the gaps of his conviction and coiling around his spine.
From below, Felicia watched with growing alarm. Her elegant features twisted with the faintest hint of displeasure. For someone as composed as her, even a flicker of emotion was revealing.
What is he doing?
They were in the middle of one of the most delicate missions in centuries, and here he was—frozen.
"Uncle Robert!" she snapped, her voice sharp as ice.
