The Final Confrontation
The transatlantic line remained open. Councilman Reid's image hovered above the chamber floor—pale, rigid, forced into witness by distance and consequence. The sea struck the harbor wall hard enough to make the shutters tremble. Garrett did not look at the screen. He looked at the fracture in the room. And then he did what he did best. He reframed it. "This," he said calmly, "is precisely the convergence Councilman Reid feared." His tone was measured. Controlled. Almost patient. "A dormant sovereign awakening. A continental Alpha binding her. An heir forming within a separate Alpha line." His gaze shifted—first to Harmony, then to me. "Sovereign bloodlines are converging across jurisdictions." The word bloodlines rippled through the elders. "Left unstructured," Garrett continu
- Writer
