The council members nodded, each of them knowing that the battle for control was far from over. They may have agreed on the strategy, but each one of them knew that in the end, there could only be one victor.
As they began to leave the room, the last words of the council meeting echoed in the air.
Ryline's voice, soft but sure, carried the weight of the decision they had made. "Now we make our move."
_____
The war room of the Technomancer League felt colder with each passing word. The stone walls, etched with centuries of arcane power, seemed to grow more oppressive as the arguments swirled around the council table. The weight of their plans, their ambitions, and their rivalries hung thick in the air, suffocating in its intensity. A crackling hum, faint but constant, came from the manac crystals embedded in the walls, their light pulsing in rhythm with the heated discourse.
