In a chamber shrouded in gloom as if darkness itself conspired with its occupants. The air was thick and heavy with the scent of melted wax and old wood. Three figures sat around a circular obsidian table, each covered in a cloak that seemed to be an extension of their will: blue, green, and red.
They were the remaining leaders of Purgatory, the organization whose ambitions had torn kingdoms apart and unleashed horrors in their quest for power. None spoke immediately.
Custom dictated that the initial silence marked the seriousness of their meeting. The candle in the center cast dancing shadows across their faces, though their expressions remained unchanged.
Finally, the man in the blue cloak, known only as Azure, broke the silence with a deep, measured voice. "The walls tighten around us," he said, drumming his fingers on the cold surface of the table.
