The question hung in the air for a moment after Sage's last words, heavy with unspoken implications.
Pax blinked, furrowing his brows as he leaned forward in his chair. "What do you mean… take it to the next level?" he asked cautiously, curiosity threading through his tone.
He had spent most of his life reacting to circumstances rather than steering them, and vague promises had taught him to proceed with caution.
Sage observed him for a heartbeat longer than necessary. His gaze wasn't sharp or intimidating, but there was a quiet weight that made Pax feel as if he were being assessed.
Then Sage leaned back in his chair, propping one elbow on the desk, adopting an almost lazy posture.
"Pax," Sage said casually, "do you have a proper job right now?"
The question caught Pax off guard.
"A… proper job?" he echoed, scratching the back of his head. His eyes drifted toward the cracked marble floor before he shook his head after a brief pause.
