"Kelta will fall in three years," Arlon said, his voice steady but somber.
Zephyrion, who had maintained a calm and listening demeanor so far, frowned for the first time. His golden eyes bore into Arlon, sharp and probing. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
"There are Mimes among the administrators," Arlon explained. "I don't know how many, and I don't know their exact goal, but they will cause significant problems alongside the anti-saviors."
Zephyrion's frown deepened. "How do you kno—"
"As I told you earlier, I can't answer questions about how I know," Arlon interrupted firmly.
Zephyrion sighed, a sound filled with equal parts frustration and contemplation. "Go on."
