Aiden, Lucian, Jack, and Chloe sit in Aiden's living room, their minds in turmoil.
The atmosphere is thick with frustration and uncertainty, the weight of their situation pressing down on them like an inescapable force.
They have no plan, no direction, and worst of all, no control. Dale has slipped through their fingers, and Marcus remains untouchable.
The tree, whatever twisted power it holds, remains an enigma, an obstacle they don't even know how to begin dismantling.
Aiden rakes his fingers through his hair, his frustration evident in every movement.
His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, his mind racing in circles. Lucian, seated across from him, looks as though he's fighting a war inside his own head.
His face is buried in his hands, his fingers gripping his temples, knuckles white from the pressure.
He's on the verge of unraveling, thoughts spinning out of control as he searches for answers that refuse to come.
