The Council Room unfolded like the hushed interior of a living heart. It was dome-shaped, ribbed with root-pillars and glowing with aether-threaded fungus that pulsed with the rhythm of slow breath. The air was thick, not with dust, but with a presence that felt ancient and alert.
Every inch of the space hummed with intent, as if it, too, listened.
Ash stepped inside, his paws treading the ground that was made of polished bark etched with glyphs that loosely created a trail to guide him.
Their lines shimmered faintly beneath each step he took, marking his passage as if the room itself remembers every movement.
