The Triarcan Keep was suffocating.
The silence that followed Selamira's voice was not gentle. It was heavy with power.
Even the air refused to move.
While sharp words had been exchanged, more had arrived. Vessels of Dynasties that had lingered outside now hovered overhead. Individuals disembarked- some with solemn expressions, others cloaked in mystery- as the Triarcan Keep continued to fill.
More Ancient Ones drifted into their seats in humanoid forms, their pressure only adding to the unbearable weight pressing down.
Achilles' sharp eyes moved, noting every new presence. Weighing every power that stepped in. He was counting. Calculating. Observing.
And when Selamira spoke again…
The entire Keep froze.
Her voice demanded respect.
"I see little has changed," she said coldly, her gaze cutting across the entire assembly. "You all stand in this sacred Keep, yet you forget its meaning."
She turned, her sea-blue eyes sweeping across the gathered crowd.
