The silence shifts. Now brimming with anticipation. With trembling eyes, Moulin watched the presence beside him fully materialize. The world deafened around him.
That familiar tall build, those hands, and finally his sharp features. The projection failed to bring out the truest of his colors. However, Moulin could still remember them vividly.
Lord Hadrian Hercullio finally entered the assembly. Clad in armor and wearing an impassive expression, he appeared fresh out of the battlefield, yet none like it. He looked handsome, neat, and dignified.
His eyes, pools of molten gold, turned to the person sitting at his side, Moulin. The youth swallowed. His mouth itched to tell him many things, but Moulin resisted. Now was not the time. They hadn't seen each other for several days, and the yearning in the youth's eyes almost seemed to burst.
