There was a weight in the room. The acknowledgment of a coming storm. But beneath that, a flicker of resolve. These were survivors. Fighters. They had seen worse. And now they had a leader worth following.
Ethan met every gaze with unwavering calm.
"We came to the Labyrinth to grow stronger. To find answers. But if anyone thinks they can control this world from the shadows—they're mistaken. We will build. We will claim. And if the Choir wants a song…"
He placed his hand on the table, mana flaring beneath his palm as a third sanctum marker appeared—faint, still uncertain.
"Then let them hear the roar of a storm."
Kaeryx's low growl rumbled from the open balcony, echoing across the chamber like thunder.
And just like that, the meeting ended.
Orders were dispatched. Workers scrambled. Smiths returned to their fires. Scouts darted into the stone-lit corridors.
Ethan remained behind, gazing down at the map.
David approached him quietly. "So what's the real plan?"
