Yannis Fenn kept a deliberate distance, the way a bodyguard does when he's been told to stand down but not stand off. Ahead of him, Lara stood with General Leonard Norse and his three sons, each positioned behind one of the emperors' coffins as if the dead still commanded ceremony.
The air in the crypt was cool, heavy with stone dust and old power.
But the coffins weren't what held their attention.
It was the wall behind them.
Carved into the ancient stone were reliefs of the generals who had shielded each emperor in life — guardians immortalized in chiseled muscle, armor, and unblinking stone eyes. Torchlight crawled across their faces, sharpening cheekbones, deepening shadows, making them look less like sculptures and more like men waiting to step forward.
And every single one carried the same name.
Norse.
