The throne room of the supremes was silent. Vast, cold, carved from stone as old as the sky itself. Crystal lanterns burned dimly along the high walls, casting long shadows that danced with every flicker of light. The banners of the Supreme Council hung still, their colors faded from centuries of blood and dust.
And Sumi Hana sat at almost corner of the room, legs crossed on a floating glass-like platform, her gaze distant as if staring into something far beyond what the room could contain.
She held her chin in her hand, her voice quiet—half-whispered, half-confession.
"Kindness… is strong."
"But it makes you look weak."
She gave a hollow smile, not at anyone in particular, just at the emptiness that surrounded her.
"People like that. They use it. They drain it until it's dry, then complain when you stop giving."
The light from above reflected off her red eyes as memories stirred in her mind.
