The weight of eternity settled on Marco's shoulders like a familiar cloak.He had grown used to it—the constant hum of the crystal, the pull of distant worlds, the endless stream of faces and voices and stories. But tonight, something was different. The crystal felt heavier in his pocket, its warmth more insistent, as if it were trying to tell him something.He walked through the city streets, watching the last of the evening light fade into twilight. The children had gone home. The merchants had closed their stalls. The city was settling into its nightly rhythm—a rhythm he had helped create."You're brooding again."Isabella's voice came from behind him, soft and familiar. He turned to find her standing in the doorway of their home, her ice-blue eyes warm with concern."I'm reflecting," he said, a small smile playing at his lips. "There's a difference.""Is there?"He laughed—a quiet, genuine sound. "Y