The words caught in Mordred's throat.
- "Not now," he whispered hoarsely, deliberately avoiding Ygdrasyle's penetrating gaze.
He could not bear this silent inquisition, the judgment he read in his comrade-in-arms' eyes. The weight of past decisions, of betrayals to come, all intertwined in an inextricable knot deep in his chest. In this moment suspended between two worlds, he no longer had the strength to explain the inexplicable, nor to justify the unjustifiable.
But the time for explanations was torn away from him. A searing vibration suddenly coursed through their slave collars, a brutal wave that penetrated flesh and bone, traveling up their nerves like liquid fire. The pain made them flinch in unison. Then a voice resonated in their minds – cold, distant, imperious. A voice that expected no response, only absolute obedience:
- "Activate the dimensional capsules immediately. The portals must open now. No waiting. No reflection. The conquest begins."
