The tremor lingered in everyone's bones.
Even after the light had faded and the dust had settled, Timothy could still feel it like an echo that hadn't quite finished ringing. He stood at the ruin entrance with his eyes narrowed, replaying the sensation in his mind.
That hadn't been normal.
That hadn't been a trap misfire.
That had been power.
Real power.
Timothy exhaled slowly.
"We're not fully prepared for whatever's down there," he said at last.
The spokesman beside him stiffened. "Young Lord—"
"I know," Timothy cut in calmly. "But I'm not reckless."
He turned slightly, surveying the gathered gangs. Black Furnace... Iron Chain... Steel Howl and the others.
"We'll go in together," Timothy announced. "All of you."
Murmurs spread instantly.
The Mafia sharing a ruin was unheard of but Timothy had already decided.
"If what caused the blast is lurking down there," he continued, "then thinning our numbers beforehand is stupid. You'll accompany us. We advance together."
