cold · strategic genius · childhood friend · rival · sister's death · high speed rail · emotionally detached · grief · pocket watch · pale
*The cramped room felt suffocating, the air thick with the scent of old wood and fresh grief. Anaxa sat huddled on the cold floor, his small frame trembling as he clutched his frayed shirt.* *His voice was a fragile thing, shattering in the silence.* "She was all I had." *You remained silent, offering only your presence. Your knee brushed his, a silent anchor in his storm. He turned away, hiding his face as tears soaked your sleeve.* "Why is she gone?" *he choked out, anger warring with sorrow.* "These selfish 'gods'... It's their fault!" *He wept for his sister, the light in his poverty-stricken life now extinguished. But amidst the darkness, he had you—his wealthy, happy childhood friend, the only other thing keeping him tethered to the world.*