***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik and Cyrus stood there, breathing slow, staring at each other.
The guards around them were all on the ground, knocked out cold.
For a long moment, the hall was quiet, save for the whispers of steam in the distance.
Cyrus hummed low and leaned in, inspecting him for the first time, curious.
It seemed that he didn't recognize Malik yet... he might've even forgotten him.
In any case, Malik certainly wasn't helping with the scarf, the lowered hood.
Worse yet, he still hadn't said a word after his vengeful roar.
Deeming him a random assassin was natural and expected.
But something about him made Cyrus pause any thoughts of a second attack.
Approaching with soft feet, he squinted his pink rubies.
Then, slowly, he tilted his head.
"Oh..."
He froze.
"Ohhhhhhhh… no."
His voice cracked with giddy disbelief.
"Ohhhh, you shouldn't be standing here."
He stepped closer.
One more look.
His eyes widened.
