Silas moved to grab Dante’s arm, but he stopped mid-step. His eyes had finally fallen on the matte-black card sitting on the table. He froze, his fingers twitching. As a Chief of Police, he had been briefed on certain 'high-level' identifiers—symbols that meant 'do not touch' under any circumstances.
"Silas?" the Governor asked, noticing his brother’s hesitation. "What are you doing? Handcuff him."
Silas didn't move. He leaned in, his voice barely audible. "Arthur... the card. Look at the crest."
The Governor stepped closer, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He looked down at the gold-pressed dragon. For a moment, his face remained unchanged. Then, the blood drained from his cheeks so quickly he looked as though he might faint. He reached out, his hand trembling as he picked up the card,
