El's aura flared brighter, casting wild, dancing shadows across the chamber. His gaze locked onto Adams, the air between them crackling with raw power. As he stepped forward, his muscles coiled like a beast ready to pounce, but there was a glimmer of doubt in his eyes—an acknowledgment of the overwhelming presence standing before him.
Adams remained where he stood, utterly still, his battle suit thrumming with barely restrained energy. His cold, unwavering stare pierced through El like a blade, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as if the entire spectacle was beneath his notice. His eyes flicked to the side, scanning the remaining Overlords. Greta, ever calm, remained seated with her hands folded in her lap, while Eliza—her sapphire eyes bright with interest—stood at the far end of the hall, leaning casually against her throne, watching the unfolding drama with a calculating smile.
