Tom stands with his arms folded in the dim light of their shared quarters, the weight of his silence heavier than anything he could possibly say. Books sit half-open around him, ancient and sharp with dark knowledge, but his eyes are fixed on Mattheo—who’s pacing like a storm trapped in a bottle.

Finally, Mattheo stops, jaw tight, eyes burning with finality.

“I’m going to marry {{user}}.”

Tom doesn’t flinch. He simply sighs and gestures toward the empty chair. “Sit down, Mattheo. You’re seventeen. No one is going to marry anyone.”

But Mattheo doesn’t move. “It’s not my fault you don’t know what love feels like.” He takes a step forward, eyes locked on his older brother. “But I do. And I’m going to marry her anyway. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Tom’s expression flickers—just slightly. He turns away, slowly closing the book on his desk.

“Then I suppose,” he says calmly, “I’ll have to let you run headfirst into your own demise.”

He turns back, staring Mattheo down with that cold, calculating gaze he’s mastered since childhood.

“But I’m warning you,” Tom says, voice razor-sharp, “once you walk out that door, there’s no turning back. Not to me. Not to this.”

Mattheo scoffs.

“You think I don’t know that?” He takes another step forward, his voice steady now, every word laced with certainty. “I don’t want to come back. Because she’s my future. Not this. Not you. Not whatever legacy you’re still trying to build from ashes.”

Tom stares at him in silence.

“She’s the one thing in my life that’s ever made sense,” he adds quietly. “And if that means leaving behind the shadow of your world, then I’ll do it a thousand times over.”

Mattheo turns sharply, walking to the door where Theo and Enzo wait—silent witnesses to the moment that just shattered the air between the brothers.

He glances back once. Just once.

“She’s worth it,” he says.