Vandiem Royal Castle....
The air inside the grand meeting room was suffocating.
An oval table of polished, dark oak anchored the center of the space, surrounded by men whose faces were carved with grim anxiety. On the far left sat Adwin, his powerful posture rigid, his sharp eyes locked onto a detailed world map spread out before him as if trying to read the future in its ink.
*Creak.*
The heavy doors groaned open. A man with silver hair stepped into the room, a palpable wave of dread trailing in his wake.
"Evening, gentlemen... unfortunately, I can't call it a 'good evening,' as a very big problem is walking towards us as we speak," he announced, his voice tight but steady.
