Silence filled the room as they stared at the two who stood at the end of the table.
"Friends, it's been a while," Sybil, a short old lady, greeted them with a smile. "I know all of you had more important things to attend to, so I appreciate that you took the time to come here."
"Sybil, you're aware nothing is more important to us than maintaining harmony in the secret society," Marceline remarked, her tone sharp and unfriendly. "Let's cut to the chase."
Then she shifted her gaze to the man standing beside Sybil. "So, it's him?"
Everyone immediately assessed Atlas from head to toe.
Sybil dipped her head slightly and chuckled, already used to their impatience. She had expected this. Nodding, she turned to the young man next to her.
"Atlas," she called, placing a wrinkled hand on his back. "Talk to them."
