The silence stretched.
Like a held breath before death.
The assembled family heads remained frozen in their crystalline chamber, their enhanced senses still reeling from the Guardian's casual dismissal of everything they'd built their identities around.
The morning light continued streaming through academy windows, but it felt different now—colder, harsher, illuminating a world that had fundamentally changed while they'd been playing games they thought mattered.
Patriarch Aldwin Drake stared at the space where The Guardian had been, his mind struggling to process systematic irrelevance that challenged decades of accumulated authority.
Lady Elena Stormcaller found herself focusing on breathing—simple, automatic breathing—because her enhanced cultivation felt suddenly as relevant as a child's toy in the presence of whatever had just reshaped their understanding of power.
