Matthew Powell's words hung in the stale air of the courtyard like an unbreakable curse, spiraling around the ears of the Lacy family members, echoing in the hollow spaces of their conscience. They stared at him, their eyes wide and unfocused, as if they were looking at a complete stranger―a being who had worn the skin of a fool for years, only to unzip it and reveal a titan underneath.
In this frozen moment, Matthew stood alone against the world, yet he seemed to suppress the entire gathered crowd with the sheer weight of his presence. He was a War God, an immovable object against which their petty waves of malice broke and scattered.
"Matthew Powell!"
Tom Lacy, the patriarch of the family, roared, his eyes bulging with a mixture of rage and fear. His entire body trembled, his knuckles
