Chapter 144: Dimensional Capsule
Days flowed with oppressive slowness in their discreet apartment in the heart of the 12th arrondissement. Mordred spent most of his time near the window, his orange gaze fixed on the daily choreography of passersby. Ephemeral existences that paraded by without awareness of the silent cataclysm preparing above their heads. He observed them their laughter, their tears, their ordinary frenzies with an icy detachment that wasn’t new. Something in him had broken long before his arrival in this world.
But now, another threat was eating away at him from within.
Since his arrival in Paris, a new fragility had invaded Mordred. His mind, once an unshakable fortress, now wavered like a ship caught in an invisible storm. The dissonance crises multiplied violent, unpredictable, increasingly difficult to conceal.
It was as if his soul itself was violently rejecting his body. A dull pain pulsed in his chest, a deafening rumble hammered his skull, and his vision fragmented into chaotic shards of superimposed realities. Sometimes, an entire limb would suddenly freeze, as if belonging to a corpse rather than a living being. He tried to mask these symptoms from Ygdrasyle, but his partner had the acuity of a predator.
One evening, as Mordred tried to fill a simple glass of water, his hand contracted in a violent spasm. The bottle escaped him, exploding on the tiles in a constellation of translucent shards. The water spread, forming a shimmering puddle under the pale lighting of their kitchen.
Ygdrasyle turned to him, his face carved in marble by an expression where concern mingled with calculating hardness.
- "It’s happening again."
It wasn’t a question, but a relentless observation.
Mordred clenched his jaw until he felt his teeth grinding.
- "It’s nothing. Just passing fatigue."
Ygdrasyle tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes scrutinizing every micro-expression of Mordred with the intensity of a silent interrogation.