XARION'S POV
For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just stare at each other, the tension heavy and suffocating.
"Xarion," he greets with a casual tone, like he's just dropped by for a friendly chat.
But there's nothing friendly about the way he's looking at me.
"Dad," I reply cautiously, my guard instantly going up. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard what happened," he remarks, his voice even. "Thought I'd stop by and check in."
I study him closely, searching for any sign of genuine concern.
But all I see is that same cold, calculating look he always has.
"You heard about the attack," I repeat slowly.
"Of course," he responds, stepping closer. "Word travels fast in Arkon, Xarion."
There's no panic in his voice. No urgency. No fear.
Just… indifference.
And that sets off alarm
