The high-altitude glass conservatory had provided the perfect, organic sanctuary for Consort Noir to lay down the intellectual weapons of his supreme reign. The beautiful, blooming night orchids were the exact right environment for retiring a signature red fountain pen. However, the King of the Underworld could not lay his physical wrath to rest among delicate petals and warm, humid air. His specific burden had been forged in cold iron, heavy ballistics, and the blood-soaked alleyways of their past. It required a resting place of absolute, unyielding titanium.
The secure biometric elevator descended flawlessly, bypassing the luxurious executive lounge, bypassing the humming quantum servers of the Infinite Ledger, and continuing far past the polished marble floors of the Academy of Shadows. It carried the absolute sovereigns of the terrestrial realm into the deepest, most heavily fortified subterranean vault beneath Green City.
