Tak tak tak.
Tak tak tak.
The mechas overhead adjusted in rhythm, creating a pulsing tension that rippled across the venue as two shadows dropped into the open road.
They landed with a force that felt ancient. Heavy. Reverberating.
To the soldiers watching, there was no doubt. Without the spiritual energy blanketing the ground, the impact would have left craters. The audience nearest the landing zone even had to dig in their heels as a burst of wind rolled toward them, strong enough to knock them off their feet.
But it wasn't just the audience digging in their heels. Because Rahil Fayrion, aide to one elven prince, was actually trying his best not to jab at his lord.
If the guy kept tensing like that, they might end up being noticed for all the wrong reasons.
Surely he didn't want a particular delegation assuming he was out there thinking of unsavory thoughts, right?
They already had a million problems. If they added that on top of everything else, would they even survive?
