The holographic projection of Krill Khians, the Royal Apostle, shimmered at the head of the obsidian table. Her glowing eyes scanned the assembly, lingering for a fraction of a second on the newly filled Seat of Circuit. The air in the vast, ancient chamber thickened with anticipation.
"For this timely meeting," Krill Khians began, her voice resonating with an almost hypnotic calm, "all of the Seats will receive the blood of our God, Krill Mainu. A sacred gift."
As she spoke, a series of hidden slots around the perimeter of the obsidian table hissed open. From each slot, a single, slender vial rose, each containing a shimmering, viscous silver liquid. A low murmur of excited, reverent whispers spread among the older Seats, their eyes fixed on the vials with palpable eagerness. Anton Rothschild, the Seat of Coin, visibly trembled with anticipation, a hungry look in his eyes.
