The silence hung between them like a curtain just drawn. Luke didn't press right away—he waited, watching the crease deepen in Emperor Ares' brow, the way his eyes seemed to drift not across the map, but into memory.
And then, the emperor spoke.
"The Wasteland…" Emperor Ares said, his voice low but clear. "It wasn't always what it is now. You know that much, I presume?"
Luke nodded slowly. "Yeah. I heard it back in Govean. Locals say there were once villages in that area. Trade routes. Some people even claim you can still find the foundations if you know where to look."
"And those people would be right," Emperor Ares confirmed. "The Wasteland was land like any other. Harsh, dry perhaps, but not dead. Not cursed. There were settlements and pioneers. Foolhardy or brave, they tried to carve out lives where no kingdom laid claim. But then… it changed."
"What happened?" Luke asked. "Monsters, right? Like the Unknown?"
Emperor Ares shook his head gently.
