The battle raged in the distance. Explosions of light, vines cracking pavement, shadows writhing like serpents. The entire place had become a warzone — but just beyond it, on the building's edge, Harry Freeman sat on a cracked slab of concrete, arms resting on his knees, watching. His face? Calm. Steady. The look of someone waiting… not afraid.
Beside him, Lily Croft leaned against the wall, her boots soaked from the frost she unknowingly emitted. Her long ponytail was damp from the storm.
She glanced at him with a sideways smirk.
"You're just watching the fight."
Harry didn't even glance back. He just nodded slightly, eyes still trained on the chaos.
"Well, it's not like I can join either…" he said. Then added, with a small smirk, "Would be an overkill, right?"
Lily scoffed.
"Yeah, yeah… If that's so." She rolled her eyes. "You Freeman boys are all talk."
Harry gave her a slow grin. The kind of grin that made you unsure if he was kidding or dead serious.
