Mr Jones knees buckled. "Old master… no, no…" he gasped, stumbling toward the bed, his voice cracking with disbelief. Tears streamed freely down his face as he fell beside the still body, shaking his head in denial, not being able to believe that his friend and boss was dead.
James stood frozen for a split second as the full horror of the scene unfolded before him. He didn't need anyone to explain—it was clear what it looked like.
"Young master," James said softly, his voice trembling as he stepped forward. "Come on… it's time to go."
He moved toward Shane, who was still on the cold floor, cradling the old master's head like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Shane didn't even look up. His tears poured freely, soaking the mask on his face, his shoulders shaking violently with each sob.
