The elders' chamber had never known disorder.
Not in memory.
Not in record.
Not in legend.
Tonight, order trembled.
The great round hall was built of white stone that never cracked, never aged. Tall pillars stood like silent guards. At the center floated the image of the Trial — once perfect… now broken light pulsing without rhythm.
Every elder saw it.
Every elder felt it.
Something was wrong.
A deep vibration moved through the floor. Soft… but impossible to ignore. Like a heartbeat that did not belong to anything alive.
Silence filled the chamber.
Not calm silence.
Listening silence.
At the highest place stood Alaric.
He did not sit. He never sat when the Trial was active. His hands were behind his back. His posture straight. His expression carved from certainty.
The projection flickered violently.
Symbols formed. Broke. Reformed. Collapsed again.
Then a voice broke the silence.
"This deviation is increasing."
Another followed immediately.
