The room was a perfect cube of sterile, blinding white light. There were no shadows here, no corners to hide in, and no sound other than the terrified breathing of the two humans seated in the center.
Fabian and Diana sat on floating grav-chairs, their wrists bound by bands of shimmering energy. They looked exhausted, their white hair matted with sweat, but their eyes held a gleam of triumph.
They had been transported here days after their report went through. And now facing them, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, was a figure who seemed to absorb the light around him.
Arbiter Valdis did not look like a monster. He looked like a statue carved from diamond and starlight. He was tall, his skin a flawless, pale alabaster, and his eyes were not organic orbs but swirling nebulas of contained energy.
He wore the high-collared, white and gold robes of the Concordat's inner circle; the Star-Eaters.
