Aaron conjured a vast conference room within his sanctuary, the walls shimmering faintly with a silver hue that pulsed like a living heartbeat. At the center, a round obsidian table stretched wide, its surface reflecting the dim glow of ethereal lamps suspended in midair. Seated around it were his closest allies—his inner circle—each bearing a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. At the head of the table sat Aaron, composed and commanding, his presence alone enough to settle the restless energy in the room.
"Alright," Aaron began, his voice cutting through the silence with calm authority. "Let's move into the next phase of our plan—the foundation of the strongest clan and, in time, the mightiest empire."
Before his words could settle, Alice leaned forward, her brows knitted tightly. "First of all, why did you let Draken go? I don't buy that little act about asking if they wanted to be turned or not." Her tone was sharp, reflecting the unease gnawing at the group.
