(Back in the Fortress.)
In one of the lower levels, hidden far beneath the training halls and dormitories, a dimly lit room hummed faintly with the sound of machines. It wasn't a place people entered casually. In fact, most people didn't even know it existed.
Behind a thick pane of reinforced glass stood a tall man dressed in a black tailored suit. His back was straight, his arms crossed neatly behind him, and his sharp black eyes stayed fixed on the scene playing out in front of him like it was just another quiet evening. But it wasn't.
Marcellus Wechester, leader of the Fortress, watched with an expressionless eye. Inside the glass room, every movement, every sound made, makes the atmosphere feel tense.
