Morning light spilled across the walls of Aether, soft and golden, stretching over the empire like a quiet promise.
The sun had barely risen, but its warmth had already begun to brush away the chill of night.
Leo woke up with a quiet yawn.
It was a small, human thing—one that had become rare for him. Sleep these days felt more like a pause between missions than actual rest.
He washed up, got dressed, and walked down the hall to the mess hall where breakfast was being served. Victor was already there, seated at the long table, quietly sipping his drink.
They sat across from each other in silence, neither saying much.
The only sounds were the clinking of cutlery and the soft rustle of soldiers moving about.
The breakfast was fitting for the highest-ranking officers of Aether—fluffy omelettes, buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and perfectly brewed coffee.
This wasn't some boiled beans meal. This was a real, hearty breakfast.
