The dim lanternlight flickered gently against the stone walls, casting long shadows that wavered with every subtle movement. The room had quieted now. The air still held the remnants of their discussion—heavy, brimming with revelations—but there was a stillness to it. Not the stillness of peace, but the pause before something inevitable.
Luke exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair. Across from him, Emperor Ares and Empress Adamantia watched in silence, not pressing him, not urging. Just watching.
They knew he needed time.
Still, after a moment, Empress Adamantia's voice broke the silence. Gentle. Curious.
"And now… what will you do with this, Luke?"
Luke lifted his eyes to her, then to Emperor Ares, briefly glanced toward Ilyrana, who had remained quiet beside him. What would he do?
He didn't have an answer.
"I… don't know," he admitted, truthfully. "Not exactly."
His hands moved, slowly folding over each other atop the table.
