Whispers of the forgotten

In an atmosphere heavy with grief and despair, Morpheus stood at the funeral of his uncle, Jaiden. The air was filled with the scent of rain as it began to fall lightly, as if the sky itself mourned alongside the grieving families. Wives and children of the other knights wept openly, their cries blending with the somber silence that enveloped the gathering.

Morpheus, unlike the others, stood alone at the edge of the crowd, silent. He shed no tears, spoke no words. All he did was gaze up at the gray sky, as though searching for meaning or answers amidst the clouds.

After several moments of silence, German approached him. His face was etched with sorrow, and his voice carried a note of sympathy as he gently placed a hand on Morpheus's shoulder.

"Your uncle was a great knight. No one can deny his bravery and dedication. I'm sorry for your loss."

But Morpheus didn't respond. He remained still, his eyes fixed on the heavens, as if the rain, now growing heavier, was the only thing capable of comforting him.

The scene was heartbreaking for anyone to witness: the gray sky, the rain washing over the earth and faces alike, and the weight of tragedy hanging thick in the air. For Morpheus, this was more than a farewell. It was a day that burdened his soul and strengthened his resolve to uncover the truth and bring the killer to justice, no matter the cost.

---

A Restless Night

After the funeral, Morpheus returned home, physically and emotionally drained. He tossed his coat over a chair and headed to his room, seeking solace in sleep. Yet, sleep eluded him. His mind was heavy, plagued by images of death and destruction, and the haunting echo of the killer's laughter ringing in his ears.

After what felt like an eternity of tossing and turning, he decided to get up. He quietly walked to the kitchen and prepared a cup of black coffee. Holding the warm mug in his hands, he sought some comfort from its heat to chase away the chill within him.

He made his way to the balcony overlooking the city and slowly opened the door. The cool night air brushed against his face, offering a strange kind of solace.

Standing there, he gazed at the star-speckled sky, its darkness a mirror to his inner turmoil.

He raised the cup to his lips, taking a small sip, savoring the bitterness that seemed to resonate with his current state of mind.

The night was unusually still, as though the entire world had paused, quietly observing the pain he carried.