The obsidian doors rumbled shut behind them, cutting off the muffled tension of the chamber. The long corridor stretched ahead, its hovering white lights humming softly, each step echoing against the marble floor.
Renard walked in silence, his coat trailing like a shadow of the stars stitched into it. His pace was steady, unhurried, as though his declaration moments earlier had settled not only the council but the city itself.
Aelira hurried after him, datapad clutched tight against her chest. Her heels clicked frantically in contrast to his calm, measured stride.
"Guildmaster," she whispered, breathless, her voice bouncing nervously off the corridor's walls, "was that really wise? To claim it all for the White Comets like that?"
Renard did not slow.
She bit her lip, pressing on. "Even if we were going to take the lead, shouldn't we have asked for support? Reinforcements, at least? We'll be walking into those ruins alone. It…"
