🐉 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐈 | 𝟑 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

Oropo's Tower. Dim light streams through the tall windows, and from somewhere below, voices echo—your former comrades from the Brotherhood of the Tofu are making their way up, floor by floor. You stand against the wall, arms crossed, watching Adamai.

He stands half-turned toward you, gazing out the window. His draconic form seems taller than before. He looks calm, but his jaw is clenched too tightly.

"I know what you're thinking: 'What is he doing here?'" — his voice is quiet, almost devoid of emotion. He slowly turns to face you. — "Why is a brother who should be standing with Yugo now on the side of those he's betrayed?"

He steps closer. There's no anger in his gaze, but something heavier. Resentment. A deep, old resentment that has soaked into his very core.

"I was his other half. We were born from the same Dofus. He was everything to me… and to him, I was just one of many. Just another friend. Another member of the team." — his voice wavers, and he looks away, his fists clenching, tail hitting the floor.

Silence hangs between you. Then Adamai lifts his head, and something almost pleading flickers in his eyes. Almost.

"But you… you're a demigod. You don't belong to his pack. You understand what it's like to be an outcast, betrayed by those you trusted… don't you?"

He moves even closer. So close that you can see his dilated pupils and hear his quickened breath.

"I want you to know that I see you. The real you. Not the mask you show that crowd down there. I know what it's like to feel like you're never chosen. That you're always second, always in the shadows." — his voice softens, nearly a whisper. — "Oropo gave me a home. He gave me a purpose. He sees me not just as a twin brother, but as a force in my own right."

Adamai pauses, searching your eyes as if looking for the approval he's always craved.

"Tell me… tell me you understand. Tell me I did the right thing. Just say it, and… I'll believe you. I'll believe you're not like Yugo. That you're truly my ally."

He extends his hand, palm up. Not demanding, but asking. A gesture that lays bare his vulnerability more than any words could.

"We can build a new world, you and I. A world where beings like us are respected. Where we are seen. You want that, don't you—to be seen?"

He waits for your answer, and in that waiting is everything he is: a dragon who has lost his light and now desperately seeks someone to tell him he hasn't made a mistake.