The office goes still the moment Ryoma finishes speaking. His words settle between them like a weight, and for several seconds no one moves, as if even breathing might tip the balance of what comes next.
On the speakerphone, the silence stretches long enough for Sera to shift uneasily and for Nakahara to release a slow, controlled breath.
Finally, Virgil answers. His voice is measured, almost too calm, the kind that comes only from someone forcing themselves to stay composed.
[So that's the tone you want to take. You're young, and you speak without caution. You don't seem to understand the responsibility behind what you're provoking.]
Ryoma doesn't look away from the device, expression set in stone.
"I'm waiting…" he says.
There's another pause, quiet and steady, but heavy with calculation on the other end of the line. When Virgil speaks again, the edge in his voice is subtle but unmistakable.
[…Very well. We won't withdraw. Fifty thousand stands.]
