In the heart of the Judicial building, a storm of voices clashed like swords, each demanding attention and validation. The room pulsed with tension as the weight of their decisions pressed upon them like a crushing anvil. The Summer king's question hung in the air like a guillotine, slicing through any semblance of ease.
"Where do you think the terrorist is hiding?" The Summer king's voice echoed, the urgency and fear palpable in the silence that followed.
The Spring king spoke with a voice tempered by caution and experience. "Anywhere and everywhere," he said, "A shadow amongst shadows, lurking in the darkest corners of our city. A necromancer, a puppet master of death and chaos, pulling strings from the veil of anonymity."
