The Great Hall was a vortex of splintered oak and cascading red sparks. The central dais, the symbol of the Steele family’s centuries of dominance, had been reduced to a heap of glowing obsidian rubble. Isabella Steele stood amidst the wreckage, her snow-white braid coming undone, her eyes wide with a frozen, crystalline fury that looked more like data-corruption than human rage.
"You've broken the cycle, Daximus!" she shrieked, her voice amplified by the hall’s dying acoustic relays. "You’ve burned the only throne that could have held this world together!"
"Then let it fall!" Dax roared back, his hand gripping mine so tightly I could feel the thrum of the Origin-Code passing between us.
We didn't wait for the Grey-Claws to recover from the shock. We turned and sprinted for the grand ba
