The silence that settled over the council chamber spoke volumes about the situation facing both Heaven and the Underworld. The crimson hologram continued hovering above the central platform, its monstrous subject staring down at the assembled Princes with its enormous, round eyes. Nobody seemed particularly eager to break the silence, not even those who had spent the previous session mocking the idea of negotiating with Heaven.
Even Sol wore a heavy frown.
The Prince of Pride sat back in his golden seat, his fingers resting against the armrest as he examined the creature. His usual expression of indifference had vanished, replaced by a rare seriousness that Damian found more interesting than the image itself.
Sol was not someone who easily acknowledged the strength of others, much less a threat capable of making him reconsider his priorities. Yet he had not dismissed the creature as insignificant, nor had he made another remark about the Underworld's supposed weakness.
