Xaloc had a lot he wanted to say, an upheaval, so you decided to leave. To let your family think you were dead and acted a scene in front of your seven year old grandson.
But in the end, all that came out was a single cold sneer that faintly slipped through the cracks of his tightly clenched teeth.
He tried to calm himself down with an iron grip over his emotions as he answered his grandfather's question, "They are in Shangri-La." Meanwhile, he had come here, like a fool to repay a debt that was none existent.
Moses nodded, "Why then are you in Atlantis, little Xal?"
That affectionate nickname caused Xaloc to seethe with anger and was overwhelmed with disgust towards this person. How could he act like this? Like everything was just smoke and mirrors.
A mouthful of blood within his chest furiously boiled, and his hands trembled with hatred.
