Under the faint light, a body lay on a bed. Though his complexion was rosy, there was no heartbeat, nor was there any breath.
He was, in every sense of the word, dead.
"So...?"
As a figure dressed in black garb stepped back, several anxious eyes looked in his direction.
With a silence that felt like it would last forever, the figure eventually shook his head.
"I do not sense any breath or any soul within the body. I'm afraid that—"
"He's not dead. I'm sure he's not dead."
Leon abruptly stood from the chair, cutting the Cleric off mid-sentence. His hair was slightly disheveled, and dark circles clung beneath his eyes as he fixed his gaze on Julien.
He, of all people, knew that there was no way Julien was dead.
The blood... it should've worked.
And yet.
Yet...
"I understand where you're coming from. This case... it is the first time I've seen something like this."
