Time/Date: TC1853.01.22 — Evening
Location: Imperial Capital, Council Halls, Coop's Safehouse
The chaos unfolding across the neural-net broadcasts had a rhythm to it—panic building in waves, each one higher than the last. Raven watched from Coop's worn leather chair, teacup cooling in her hands, while the projection screen cycled through feeds that showed an Empire coming apart at its spiritual seams.
"—reports from the Third District indicate complete formation failure in the eastern residential sectors—"
"—Lin family healing halls have issued emergency protocols, recalling all practitioners to clan headquarters—"
"—Long military installations experiencing unprecedented equipment malfunctions—"
Grandpa Coop stood by his console, cybernetic eye whirring as it tracked data streams invisible to normal vision. His weathered fingers moved across interfaces with practiced efficiency, pulling up feeds from contacts most people didn't know existed.
