After the warm meal filled with laughter and love, Max stood up from the dining table and politely thanked his mother and father, smiling with that same innocent grin that always made them proud. Then, humming softly to himself, he made his way back to his room, feeling full and content.
But the moment he stepped near the doorway, a chill ran down his spine. He stopped abruptly, his smile vanishing as a strange feeling crept over him. His senses, sharp even for a ten-year-old, tingled. Something was off.
'There are people inside…' he thought, narrowing his eyes. Though he was just a kid, he wasn't foolish—he had been trained, and he had instincts far beyond his age.
'Who could be in my room?'
Just then, his mother's frantic voice rang directly into his ears, carried through vital essence sound transmission—"Max, Freya! Get out of the palace now! We are being attacked!"
