Morning arrived quietly over the Walker estate.
Sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows, painting long golden lines across the polished floors.
The house looked peaceful.
Still.
Controlled.
For the first time since Victor Hale's announcement, the estate felt almost calm.
Almost.
Damian had not slept.
Not even for a minute.
He sat at the kitchen island, staring into a mug of coffee that had gone cold an hour ago.
Steam had disappeared long ago.
The surface of the liquid was still.
Unmoving.
Just like him.
His mind refused to stop moving.
Victor's press conference.
Arthur's warning.
Prime Omega.
Each thought circled endlessly in his head like a storm that refused to settle.
And beneath all of it… there was something else.
Something far more distracting.
Damian rubbed his face with both hands.
Slowly.
Wearily.
Focus.
That was what he needed.
