Seated inside the room, a middle-aged woman sat across from Thoren, a faint, controlled smile playing on her lips.
Her posture was composed, her presence commanding without being overbearing.
Behind her stood five councilors, each wearing a different expression, shock, caution, and restrained curiosity.
None of them dared to speak.
Their eyes remained fixed on Thoren, as though they were observing something both dangerous and extraordinary.
They had all witnessed what had happened earlier.
They had seen Thoren's overwhelming strength when he confronted Silas.
They had watched, stunned, as he subdued the young master of the Steelwind family without lifting a finger.
They had encountered many Awakeners who returned from the Abyss before.
Some were arrogant, some unstable, others overly proud of their survival.
But none, none had ever exuded the kind of oppressive presence Thoren carried so effortlessly.
He was different.
He stood in a league entirely of his own.
