I ran a hand through my hair, trying to reconcile the words with what I knew of our situation. Sasrir's methods were terrifyingly effective, and I had learned long ago that questioning them openly did nothing but slow things down. Still, Kai's unease gnawed at me.
"I—" Kai swallowed hard, voice still quiet, "I understand… but it just feels so harsh. Maybe… maybe there's another way?" His eyes darted to me, almost pleading. He wanted to argue, but didn't want to push too far. Mira's condition was still fresh in his mind.
I offered him a small, strained shrug. "We don't really have another choice, Kai. Not if we want the Guards to actually fall in line. Sasrir's right—sometimes the lesson has to be brutal for the rest to learn."
Kai's shoulders slumped, a soft exhale escaping him. He glanced down at his untouched bread, quietly picking at it with nervous fingers, murmuring, "I just… wish it didn't have to be this way."
Sasrir leaned back slightly, expression unreadable, as if he hadn't heard a word. His presence alone seemed to anchor the room in cold calculation. The lesson had been delivered; it was only a matter of execution.
I exhaled, feeling tension creep along my spine. Having the entire Host gathered in one room was never casual, and knowing Gunlaug's tendencies, I had a sinking feeling that today's meeting would test more than just our authority over the Guards.
Kai let out a small, uneasy whistle, muttering softly, "I just hope… hope nothing goes horribly wrong."
I shot him a glance, half amused, half worried, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over me. With Sasrir standing beside me like a living weapon, and Kai quietly moralizing from the sidelines, we were about to walk into a room where power, fear, and politics collided—and I had a sinking feeling it was going to be worse than anything I'd faced so far.
The mess hall was emptying when I realized it was time. Lunch was over, and the meeting—Gunlaug's meeting—was about to begin. I felt the familiar tightening in my stomach, a mix of anticipation and that prickling sense of being measured by a thousand eyes. Sasrir fell into step beside me, silent as always. I glanced at him briefly; his dark eyes didn't betray a flicker of emotion. Typical. Calm as ever.
Kai wasn't allowed in. I tried not to think about it, but the absence of his gentle presence made the tension in the air heavier. He would have whispered his worries, probably fidgeting with his sleeves and softly objecting to the idea that we were walking straight into the den of the Bright Lord and the Host. Instead, it was just us, and that made every step feel louder, heavier.
I pushed the door open, stepping into the hall last. Immediately, a wave of authority hit me, thick and suffocating. The entire Host was assembled, each member seated or standing with that careful poise that suggested they knew exactly how to weigh someone with a glance.
"Ah—sorry I'm late!" I said, forcing a chipper tone into my voice. I tried to make it sound casual, even lighthearted, but I could feel the weight of their scrutiny like iron pressing against my chest. Sasrir didn't move a muscle beside me. Not a single twitch. Silent as stone.
Gunlaug sat in his familiar throne at the far end of the hall, high and imposing. If I hadn't seen him stand off it during the duel, I might have genuinely believed he was glued there, like the mythical God Emperor of Humanity itself. His presence radiated control, authority, and an unsettling calm that made the hairs on my neck stand on end. The faint glint of his fingers on the armrest reminded me that this was a man who never wasted motion.
Seishan stood slightly apart, as perfect as ever. Pale grey skin, eyes cool and unreadable, lips curved into a delicate smile that somehow managed to be both beautiful and completely inscrutable. She inclined her head as we entered, her nod smooth, elegant, and silently assessing. I felt my pulse quicken, though I couldn't tell if it was from nervousness or a strange, magnetic awe that always seemed to follow her.
Gemma was already seated with Kido. The two of them had paired up like clockwork, Gemma ignoring us completely, posture rigid and expression brooding, as if the air itself offended him. Kido, on the other hand, leaned slightly forward, curiosity flickering across her features as she took us in, eyes darting back and forth between myself and Sasrir. I couldn't help but feel a little exposed under that scrutiny, as if every misstep might be catalogued and judged.
Harus, as always, remained a fixture beside Gunlaug. The hunchback was as unsettling as ever, standing motionless yet somehow present in every shadow, his gaze sliding over us like a fish swimming in dark water. His hollow, unreadable expression made me shiver slightly; it was impossible to tell whether he registered our presence—or if he simply existed in a space slightly removed from our reality.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The air was thick with unspoken authority, a tangible tension that seemed to vibrate against my skin. Gunlaug's eyes, sharp and piercing even from the throne, flicked toward me the moment I stepped fully into view. I gave a quick, polite bow, trying to look composed.
"Good," Gunlaug said finally, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "All present. Let us begin."