"And you play god with stolen power—just for the convenience of making your work easier. When the land dies… we die with it."
"Do. You. Understand. Me?" Each word was a dagger, honed by exhaustion.
Veira's star-flecked eyes met his. She nodded once, like a marionette tugged by invisible strings. But her fingers curled inward, cradling a vial hidden in her sleeve—its contents swirling with the same impossible light that shimmered in her gaze.
"You're nothing but a dog on a leash. A secret to be hidden. A stain on my country."
His words tore through her, but she bit her tongue and bowed her head, swallowing each insult without a sound. "Do you hear me?! Nothing! The gods will spit on your grave, you'll never see the paradise they've created!"
"You'll never be comparable to them, do you hear me?" his voice soon dropping to a mutter of promise, his words sending a shiver down her spine.
"Step out of line again, and it'll be the last time you ever see the sun."
