Once he returned home, Isaac walked through the apartment in silence, carefully avoiding the worried gaze of Léna, who was watching him from the living room without daring to speak. The tension was palpable, heavy, almost suffocating. His sister had likely guessed, from his distant and cold expression, that the day had brought nothing concrete. And Isaac had no desire to explain, no desire to justify his decisions or his apparent failures once again.
He entered his room, closed the door softly behind him, and sat down on the edge of the bed. For a few seconds, he stared blankly ahead, his gaze lost in the shadows. His breathing gradually slowed, his heartbeat calming bit by bit, soothed by the silence.
Then, as it did every time now, a familiar sensation slowly crept over him. A chilling cold, dull and creeping, like an invisible hand plunging into his soul to tear it out. His mind was violently pulled away, reality flickered and collapsed in an instant.
His eyes snapped open.
