The Imperial Council was assembled.
Forty voices, forty whispers... and a silence heavier than war itself.
The great hall stretched out like an ocean of white marble, supported by jade columns that rose until they vanished into a ceiling painted with intertwined dragons and cranes. The silk lanterns, hanging along the walls, burned with faint flames, but their light seemed weak against the density of the atmosphere. No one dared to speak clearly; conversations were whispers, barely breaths disguised as words.
And in the midst of it all, the jade throne was empty.
For the first time in years, the emperor's shadow did not preside over that circle of power.
A void more fearsome than any presence.
