Chapter 17

• Gala barely slept that night.
• His mind kept spiraling back to the conversation he’d had with Dice—especially the part about his father. Everything he remembered about Xavier painted a picture of a gentle man, someone warm and always smiling. But Dice's description? It was nothing like the man he knew. When he voiced his doubts, Dice had only offered a stiff, mechanical smile. Then—
• Something shimmered in front of him. A large screen-like projection appeared out of thin air, showing a scene that made Gala's breath hitch. Xavier. He looked the same. Cautious yet composed, carrying what looked like a heavy rifle slung over his shoulder. His eyes were sharp, scanning the dense underbrush as he moved with swift precision, weaving through trees and overgrown vines.