Chapter 96 - What Power Becomes

Each step Selena took across the bone-paved floor vanished into a silence so absolute it bordered on sacred. There was no tap, no echo, no scuff of boot against stone. It was not a silence born of stillness—but of consumption. The sounds of life, of movement, were swallowed whole by the weight of centuries embedded in the chamber's ancient marrow. The air held no dust, no warmth. Here, in this place older than judgment, older than prophecy, even the breath of time seemed forgotten. The Court of Chains did not echo—it devoured.