While dominoes in Lunaris dropped like pants at a brothel, the far end of the same chain started falling at Greyhall Crossing.
Eight hundred miles apart, same row, same collision course. Neither end had any goddamn idea the other was moving. When they met in the middle, the resulting shitstorm was going to make both ends look like foreplay.
Tile twelve belonged to a king who just arrived at his own summit in the nick of time, pun intended.
DOMINO 12: THE FINAL BOSS ENTERS
GREYHALL CROSSING - 6:55 PM
DISTANCE TRAVELED: 1,200 MILES
DISTANCE FROM GUINEVERE - 17 MILES
Let's not bullshit each other. Their entrance was critical as fuck, and every last one of them knew it. Straight-up it was one of the most important things they could do for their pack.
Why?
Alphas were judgmental pricks and respect was earned for the dumbest shit imaginable. This was one of the main ways. Nicholas didn't invent the game. But if he was playing, he was going to play the absolute fuck out of it.
