The words carried weight!
Heavy weight!
They were declaration of war. Achilles wanted them to feel the same sense of being hunted, the same terror that had driven his ancestors to desperate measures across generations.
Ethemia had already informed him that bells had tolled, ancient warning systems alerting powers that the Adrastia lineage had somehow survived extinction.
He would simply let them know openly that he was coming for them, that patience and planning had replaced desperation and reactive defense.
With heavy expression that mixed anticipation with genuine regret for necessities, he looked toward the Grand Emperor with something approaching respect.
"Are you ready?" he asked calmly.
The Grand Emperor rose from his throne with movements that carried accumulated dignity spanning eons, authority asserting itself even in the face of impossible odds.
Terrifying power erupted from his enhanced physiology as he prepared to demonstrate why he had ruled star sectors.
