The morning air atop the balcony was thin and tasted of impending rain. Mirabella stood at the precipice, the wind tugging at her hair, while Carl remained a few paces to the side. His eyes were fixed on the town square below, where three figures stood like statues carved from obsidian and gold. The silence down there was unnatural, a physical weight that made the hair on his arms stand like needles.
"I thought Hayatobi would be the one," Carl said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, trying to reclaim his composure. "For the Dragon Empire. Isn't this... his moment?"
Mirabella didn't turn. She watched a eagle circle the square, sensing the same predatory shift in the atmosphere. "Hayatobi is someone insufficient, Carl. He doesn't step into the light for formalities. He's currently stabilizing a situation or getting ready for what happens next. He only moves when the world-axis shifts—and today, it's tilting."
