The Continental Intelligence Council's hidden stronghold sat deep beneath the Ironspire Mountains, carved from living stone and warded with formations older than memory. In its central chamber, seven figures sat around an obsidian table, their faces illuminated by floating crystals that pulsed with cold light.
"The Light Guardian organization shows remarkable resilience," Director Cassius Vex spoke, his fingers steepled. "Our psychological warfare campaign has failed to produce the desired fractures."
"Perhaps," said Deputy Director Malachar, a thin man whose eyes never seemed to blink, "we've been too subtle. The boy clearly possesses capabilities beyond normal Pre-Celestial range."
"The Academy partnership complicates matters," added another councilor. "Their protection legitimizes his operations."
