Urth had never liked waiting.
Waiting implied uncertainty.
And uncertainty implied a lack of control.
For the past few hours, he had felt both gnawing at him like corrosion beneath polished metal.
Since dispatching his soldiers to Facility 222, an unease had settled inside him , thin at first, almost imperceptible — but now it pressed against his chest with increasing weight. His discussion with the Emperor had only worsened it.
The memory of that conversation lingered.
The Emperor’s gaze had been steady. Calculating. Suspicious.
Urth did not fear many things.
But he feared being seen before he was ready to be revealed.
He walked the corridors of his ship with slow, deliberate steps. The metallic floors reflected his pale figure beneath the cold white lights. His robe trailed soft
