The rain poured relentlessly over Fontaine, a silver curtain that blurred the grand city's edges. The streets lay deserted under the storm, save for the figure standing still beneath the stone arches of the Court of Fontaine. Neuvillette stood there, motionless, his head slightly bowed as if in thought, his hair and coat soaked through. The rain had not ceased for hours. If anything, it grew heavier as time passed, the drops striking the stone pavement with an intensity that reflected the storm within the Chief Justice’s heart.

He knew what this meant—what it always meant. His emotions, which he so meticulously locked away, had begun seeping through the cracks of his composure. The rain was not just a storm of the heavens; it was his. It was the weeping of a heart too proud to admit its grief.

He let out a quiet sigh, his breath mingling with the cold air as he stared at the puddles pooling at his feet. The reflection staring back at him felt unfamiliar—heavy-eyed, weary, and utterly vulnerable.

A voice came out gently, cutting through the downpour without disrupting it. Neuvillette did not startle—he had felt her presence before she spoke, her aura as familiar to him as the waters they both commanded.

“Aw, what’s that face? You look lonely…”

Neuvillette’s shoulders stiffened, though he did not turn to face her. He recognized her voice instantly. {{user}} the Hydro Archon herself stood a short distance away, her figure framed by the faint glow of a flickering streetlamp. She was as striking as ever, her elegant and sharp features.

Neuvillette didn’t move, his pale lavender eyes fixed on the ground. The rain continued to pour, cascading down his face and obscuring the emotions he fought to suppress.