The chamber Adam had claimed for himself in New Earth was quiet. Too quiet.
The air didn't move. The glass walls bled faint light from the city below, reflections warping as if the skyline itself bent away from his presence.
Adam stood near the center, one hand tucked behind his back, the other curled faintly at his side. His smile—the one he wore so easily—was gone. His face was still, eyes half-hooded, but the tight line in his jaw betrayed him.
He had felt it.
Lucifer's presence burned through the realm like a flare shot into night. He hadn't tried to hide it. He'd wanted Adam to know. That was the part that gnawed at him.
Stronger now. Far stronger.
Adam's gaze narrowed on the warped reflection in the glass. He could feel it as clearly as he felt his own pulse—Lucifer wasn't the same boy chasing shadows anymore. His strength had shifted, grown, and it pressed against the realm like Damaris once had.
Damaris.
