The tension wrapped the air in chains.
Damien didn't breathe.
Couldn't.
Not when 'he' was looking at him.
Argon Von Vaise stood motionless, his gaze pinning Damien like a spear through the spine.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
But it was final.
Then, in that silence, the entire courtroom felt it: Judgment.
Argon's lips parted. "…You are no longer an elder of our house."
His voice wasn't deep.
It wasn't thunderous.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
A verdict whispered from the mouth of a god.
Just like that… it was done.
No appeal.
No protest.
No chance.
Damien opened his mouth. "I—"
But Crisaius appeared before the guy in a heartbeat, waving a hand with a smile that could skin mountains.
"Ah, ah, ah. Shhh, now." He placed a single finger in the air like a teacher announcing recess.
Damien, however, clenched his asshole, fearing that the fart he'd been holding in would be released.
After all, Crisaius had popped up before him like a jumpscare from a scary movie.
