Zark stood still, hands lowered, his stance non-threatening. He let her anger crash against him like a tide against stone, absorbing her pain with a silence that was neither arrogant nor weak—just... patient.
Madeleine's breath came in short bursts. Her fists clenched, her arms trembling. Her aura pulsed violently, then flickered, breaking like glass before vanishing entirely. Her knees buckled.
Zark stepped forward instinctively.
"Don't touch me!" she rasped, voice cracking.
"I wasn't going to," he said softly. "I just didn't want to see you fall."
She fell anyway—onto her knees, then her hands, her red hair spilling over her face like a curtain as silent sobs shook her shoulders.
"I hate this…" she whispered. "I hate this so much…"
Zark didn't respond. He simply lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the floor, a few feet away, waiting.
