Council Chamber – Nightfall
The room was dark, only lit by floating orbs of blue fire that hovered above the long obsidian table. Shadows flickered against the tall walls, and the air was thick—like the space itself was holding its breath.
Twelve seats circled the table. All were filled.
Greta stood in the middle, arms behind her back, chin raised like she wasn't surrounded by the most dangerous people in the world.
Across from her, Vladimir leaned forward, hands clasped under his chin, eyes sharp enough to slice stone.
"She's gone," he said, voice low but heavy. "You're telling me Remu—who was under your watch—escaped… right under your nose?"
Greta didn't flinch.
"I said it already. She had help. And before I could react, I was hit by something—a Fomorian, using paralytic venom. Caught me off guard. Honestly, it's a miracle I'm standing here."
The room went dead silent.
Then:
"…A Fomorian?" Fowler muttered, eyes narrowing.
