Cyrus leaned back in his chair, his head resting, looking up, using the chair's edge as an anchor. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his thoughts swirling in chaos.
Too much had happened in a single day, it felt like the weight of it all was pressing down on him; he wondered how something that he created using meticulous planning for a long time for coming down on his head and he didn't even know how all of this started.
He wanted to find the person who was the cause of all of this and grind him to dust. Alas, Valcroy had already taken care of the "burly man" so Cyrus' wish would remain a wish.
For now, Cyrus waited. Across the room, Dagan stood, his arms crossed, his eyes locked on the door. He was waiting for the person while also sending more to check up on what had happened to his people.
