Inside the imperial palace of Heizen, the vast marble hall felt strangely heavy with tension. A tall figure walked back and forth across the polished floor, his footsteps echoing faintly against the high stone walls. His pace was restless and uneven, and his unease was obvious to anyone watching.
Roosevelt kept his hands clasped behind his back, but his fingers would not stay still. They trembled slightly as he paced across the hall again and again.
"Pleard… what do you think?"
His voice was tight, and there was a strain in it that he could not hide.
"Will they be alright?"
He suddenly stopped walking and turned toward the old man standing beside him. His brows were furrowed, and worry was written clearly on his face.
"I don't care if it fails, but I hope they will be alright."
Pleard looked at him quietly for a moment. A faint smile appeared on his wrinkled face.
