"You're really ballsy huh Fin? Don't you realise where this is?"
The old man's voice did not need to rise. The marble carried it for him, stretching each syllable across the vast hall until it thinned into a cold whisper. His cane struck the polished floor once, twice, the sound crisp and deliberate, like a judge marking the start of a trial.
Minister Fin appeared from the far corridor a heartbeat later.
The hem of his coat brushed against the frost glazed marble as he walked forward. The air beneath the capital was always cold, unnaturally so, as if the sins buried here leeched warmth from the world above. The ceiling arched high overhead, carved with ancient sigils that faintly shimmered in dying light.
"There's nowhere on this planet I'm unaware of," Fin replied calmly. "I will follow you to the depths of the abyss old man, as long as I keep my promise sacred."
His tone was steady. Too steady.
