The heavy oak doors of the Palace reception hall swung open with a rhythmic thud that echoed against the high, vaulted ceilings.
The air inside was thick with tension, smelling of ozone and expensive incense.
Every head, some covered in scales, others glowing with ethereal light, and some purely mechanical, turned toward the entrance.
Noah stepped forward, his expression unreadable, his stride steady.
Beside him, Liara, the Phoenix Queen, walked with a grace that seemed to set the very air on fire.
The room was a microcosm of the galaxy's power structure.
Representatives from hundreds of systems were packed into the space, their hushed whispers dying out the moment Noah appeared.
The silence wasn't born of respect.
It was born of a fresh, paralyzing fear.
Only minutes ago, the entire orbital theater had witnessed the humiliation of the Dragon Race.
