At this moment, the third floor of the Coalition Pagoda was as it always had been: silent, vast, and suffocatingly profound.
Mist drifted across the endless chamber, thick enough to conceal distance and distort depth. A long ethereal table stretched forward, its surface carved with layered law-runes that shimmered faintly like distant constellations beneath water.
At the far end, the towering throne of starlit obsidian stood empty for the Coalition Master was absent.
However, one presence occupied the chamber as she sat gracefully upon the first seat to the right of the throne.
Her robes flowed like woven night, deep indigo fabric threaded with faint constellations that pulsed in slow rhythm. A tall witch's hat cast a subtle shadow over her form, and her face was hidden behind a flawless, featureless mask, devoid of eyes, mouth, or expression.
