The heavy oak door of the Memorial Room groaned as Ares pushed it open, the sound echoing like a dying breath in the silent corridors of the Shadow Legion’s bunker.
"Why are we down here, Ares?" Clara asked, her voice hushed. She hesitated at the threshold, her eyes scanning the dimly lit chamber.
The room was a sanctuary of forgotten histories. Dusty banners of fallen houses hung from the stone walls, and glass display cases held cracked armor, rusted swords, and faded scrolls. The air smelled of old parchment, dried wax, and the heavy weight of the past. It was a place meant for mourning, not strategy.
"Because the war we are fighting didn't start with Kresna," Ares said, walking toward a large, circular oak table in the center of the room. "And I need you to understand that killing h
