Chapter 16: Something Different
The television dimmed into a low, staticky hum, flickering against the pale walls like distant lightning through heavy clouds.Demien stayed where he was, the leather of the armchair cool against the backs of his arms, the remote sliding unnoticed to the floor by his side.
The interview had ended minutes ago.
No fanfare.No sweeping music to underline its importance.
Just the lingering shot of Clara Aubert’s face — composed, bright-eyed, unreadable in a way that didn’t feel rehearsed — before the program cut awkwardly to commercial filler.
Demien’s chest rose and fell once, slow and measured.A breath not of exhaustion, not of preparation for another battle, but of something smaller. Quieter.
Curiosity.
The kind he hadn’t felt since waking in this new skin.
His gaze drifted toward the darkened corners of the room, following shadows that twisted lazily as the television shifted through late-night highlight reels nobody really watched.
Somewhere deep inside, beyond the rigid compartments where he stored formations, player profiles, media strategies, a thought brushed against him.
Not about tactics.Not about transfers.
About her.