"This is where decisions are made."
As soon as Ysvara said that, Albedo felt a flood of mana rushing through the entire room, converging towards the twin thrones like gravity wells.
Lucian straightened instinctively, posture sharpening. Veronica's eyes flicked across the room, calculating angles not of combat, but of influence. Even Zeus, usually irreverent to the point of defiance, went quiet, jaw tightening as if he understood—perhaps for the first time—that brute force alone meant nothing in a place like this.
Kael Nocturna took his seat first.
He did not sit so much as settle, his presence locking into the obsidian throne as though the seat itself had been waiting for him. The gold veins along its surface flared briefly, then dimmed, acknowledging its ruler.
Ysvara followed, seating herself upon the pale onyx throne with fluid grace. Silver tracery shimmered once, then stilled, mirroring the composure of its queen.
