Back in the dimly lit cellar that Chronos, Xelithos, Ezara, and Adam occupied, the increasing frequency of explosions above them was almost lost in the intensity of the conversation unfolding.
Tensions were high, but the danger outside was momentarily forgotten as they engaged in a negotiation that would forge a new alliance.
Chronos's eyes, sharp and discerning, bore into Xelithos and Ezara.
The two figures before him were enigmas; beings from civilizations he could scarcely comprehend, having lived through epochs he could only imagine.
Yet, despite their mysteries, he sensed their desperation, a longing for redemption and a place to belong.
"To be honest with you,"
Xelithos began, his voice laced with bitterness,
"While I may have once been Annunaki nobility, I had been stripped of my titles and exiled to… well… here. I am a shadow of my former self, forgotten and scorned."
