Rock Sand City, Golden Sand Society headquarters.
In a secluded courtyard at the heart of the compound, Golden Sand Society President Salimo paced like a caged animal, his usual composure completely shot.
The wolf-head parrot perched on his shoulder was a mess—feathers bloodied, beak clamped shut, eyes wide with terror. The poor thing had clearly caught the wrong end of its master's temper.
Scattered feathers littered the ground as the bird sat statue-still, too scared to make a peep.
"Where the hell is he?"
Two hours had crawled by since the meeting time.
Something must've gone wrong.
Salimo's weathered face creased with worry as he kept shooting glances toward the courtyard gate, but the man he was waiting for never showed.
Still, Salimo wasn't about to throw in the towel.
He had to keep waiting...
Time dragged on—morning stretched into noon, noon into afternoon.
