[Before Ethan woke up.]
In front of his father, Ethan's gaze bore into him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air.
His chest rose and fell with each strained breath, and his fingers curled into tense fists, muscles quivering with the internal turmoil that surged through him.
The room was a tableau of conflict, scattered books strewn about the floor like forgotten casualties.
Solomon, still seated, wore a skeptical expression, a blend of disbelief and disdain etched across his features.
"You'd go this far for them? Are you naive, boy?" Solomon's voice pierced the charged silence, his words cutting through the palpable tension like a knife through butter.
The atmosphere was electric, and Ethan stood motionless, his hand slowly inching toward his chest, the very core of his unyielding resolve.