The room was dark, its walls curved inward like the inside of a cracked bell.
Black stones lined the floors, etched with deep carvings that stood out against the stone, shining with a dull, soundless light.
There was no door, only a hanging sheet of thick black velvet separating the room from the air outside.
The general exhaled before stepping through it.
She walked across the hollow floor, her boots making no sound against the cursed stone, until she reached the figure standing in the center of the room.
The silver-masked Elder, the Warden of Law, didn't turn to face her. Instead, he stood there, arms crossed behind his back, watching a silent illusion projected before him.
He could see the glowing threads tracking the flow of movement throughout the layer. It was information he was privy to, from the Warden of Statistics.
"I assume you're not here to give me good news," the Elder said, his voice quiet but somehow reaching every corner of the wide room.
