From the highest floor of the Grand Citadel, where the air was thin and the chandeliers below shimmered like constellations in a crafted sky, he stood.
A man dressed in a long, dark coat embroidered with sigils that did not belong to any known kingdom. His posture was poised, exuding a presence that was neither rushed nor hesitant—but deliberate. He leaned ever so slightly forward, placing his hands on the ornate balcony rail as he gazed down at the grand hall below.
His face was illuminated by the glow of the gala beneath—sharpened features, unreadable expression, but his eyes—piercing and unwavering—swept across the gathered dignitaries.
A chime rang out.
Then, his voice—calm, weighted, and without a single wasted word—echoed across the entire citadel through the intercoms.
"Esteemed rulers, noble emissaries, and honored guests… welcome."
A pause, just long enough for the gathered figures to settle.
