Alister looked at her for a long moment—silent, still, as if weighing the weight of truth against the comfort of silence.
Then, without flinching, he answered.
"I'm planning to take over the Union."
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. Each word landed like a stone in still water—calm, deliberate, undeniable.
Anya blinked.
Then she blinked again.
Her fingers froze against the rim of her glass, the playful curl of her smile faltering just enough to reveal something else beneath—curiosity laced with the sharp edge of disbelief.
"…You're serious," she said slowly.
Alister didn't blink. "Very."
A beat of silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the city far below.
And then, as if the sheer absurdity of it finally caught up with her, Anya laughed. Not out of mockery—but out of sheer, stunned amusement.
