The adrenaline from his intense training sessions still hummed beneath Julian's skin. He felt honed, sharper, but also profoundly weary. Myanmar loomed, a green, ancient challenge, but before he could step into that jungle, he needed to navigate a different kind of wilderness: the labyrinthine corridors of power. His Aetherium skills might manage energetic wards, but the world of politics required a different kind of manoeuvre. A world where Vivian Thorne reigned.
Julian stepped out of the private lift, its hushed descent leaving him in a marble-clad reception area. The air was cool, scented faintly with expensive jasmine and fresh ink. Above him, a soaring atrium of glass and polished steel hinted at the immense wealth and influence housed within this building – Thorne Tower, a testament
