The silence that followed Vincenzo's words was sharp enough to cut. The weight of what had been spoken—the possibility of a hand greater than the witches—hung between them like an uninvited guest.
Archimedes did not move at first. His gaze was steady, fixed upon Vincenzo, but the storm simmering beneath pressed at the chamber until the air itself seemed taut. The Demon King's voice, when it came, was low and dangerous.
"You suggest there is something above them. Or someone." Each syllable precise as he asked, "But what made you draw that conclusion?"
