A heavy crystal wine goblet shattered against the polished obsidian wall of the grand viewing room. The dark red liquid stained the pristine stone and dripped slowly onto the floor.
Lord Malakor stood behind his massive desk carved from solid diamond. The ruler of the Obsidian Cartel ignored the spilled wine and kept his dark eyes locked on the crimson holographic interface hovering in the air. The master ledger of his ancient empire was displaying an unacceptable truth. The long columns of glowing red numbers proved that his divine authority was bleeding.
A specific line of text blinked rapidly in the center of the projection. It confirmed the systemic tether to the Iron Scaled Behemoth was severed. The creature was dead.
"Twenty thousand points," Malakor whispered into the quiet room.
