Only Kord and Mirak remained silent as the room stirred with tension. The other Revenant members muttered, whispered, or outright argued among themselves. Kord shook his head, leaning closer to Mirak. "The others are rowdy tonight," he murmured. "Not even giving the boss a chance to speak."
Lancelot raised the thick tome he had taken from the museum, its pages filled with detailed, hand-drawn schematics. The illustrations depicted the Palace, from its towering spires to the intricate layout of its facilities. He turned the book, and the others leaned closer to study it. The supports of the Palace were drawn as a massive rock plateau, its foundation reaching deep into the heart of the sea. A single bridge connected the Palace to the mainland, while waves endlessly battered the jagged rocks below.
"This," Lancelot began, his voice calm but commanding, "is the Palace's water and sewage system. I was uncertain of the exact schematics until now, but it's unguarded. Why bother to defend something already protected by the raging sea?" He flipped to another page and let the book pass from one Revenant member to the next.
The room stilled as they studied the design—a network of tunnels hidden beneath the Palace, maintained only by a small cleaning crew. Lancelot spread his arms wide. "A ship will carry us into the heart of it. And with two Harmony users aboard, the sea will part for us."
Czenth, his voice gruff and skeptical, broke the silence. "It will take more than a little 'Harmony' to pull this off, Lancelot. The waves are relentless, and the ship won't guide itself. I don't trust the mastery of Harmony from our newest member."
Lancelot's expression remained composed, his confidence unwavering. "There is no need for concern, Czenth. I would not suggest this plan if I doubted any of you. Each Revenant has proven their worth."
Lock leaned back in his chair, his hand absently toying with the hilt of his blade. "And the guards? The ones patrolling the balconies and Palace grounds? They won't just sit back and let us waltz in."
Selene grinned, her voice light and mocking. "What are a few guards to the Revenant? I've seen us handle far worse. They won't know what hit them."
Lancelot raised a hand, silencing the chatter before it could escalate. "I will not deceive you. The Palace is the most heavily defended structure in all of Lorian. Its defenses were crafted after the Age of Arcana by a hundred sorcerers, their Atta woven into every stone and seal. It is not invulnerable, but neither is it unassailable."
He stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the table as the torches flickered. "To breach it, we will first unseat the King of Thieves. With him gone, the city will descend into chaos. The thief gangs will turn on one another, riots will spread like wildfire, and the city's defenses will falter. Only then can we slip into the Palace and pilfer the vault hidden in its depths."
Murmurs rippled through the group, but they quieted as Lancelot's tone grew sharper. "This, however, will not be enough. To truly succeed, we must cripple the Great Houses. It is their influence that binds the city's order, and their collapse will pave our way to the treasures of the Palace."
Next to Mirak, Kord whispered, "Lancelot's always so sure of himself. He truly believes we can pull this off."
Mirak turned his head slightly. "And do you?"
Kord grinned, his teeth glinting faintly in the firelight. "With the Essences at our beck and call? What could possibly stop us?"
Czenth, arms crossed and posture rigid, was not as convinced. "Pride," he said curtly. "This plan reeks of it. The Saki and city guards already hunt us, and now you want to provoke war with all eight Major Great Houses? This is madness."
Lancelot met Czenth's steel gaze with a steady calm. "You call it hubris, but I call it ambition. The Revenant were not born to linger in the shadows like petty thieves. I created us to be legends—thieves without equal. Not slaves to a puppet King of Thieves, but the pinnacle of what can be achieved." His voice softened slightly as he added, "I trust each of you, no matter how long you have been with us. That trust is unwavering."
He paused, scanning the room. "But I will not demand this of you. Any who wish to leave may do so without consequence. I will mourn the loss of your companionship, but I will not hold you to a dream you do not share." His voice dropped into something almost tender. "Even in your absence, know this—I love each of you as a son or daughter."
Kord was the first to respond. "I've been with the Revenant for eight years. This place is the only home I've ever known. I'll gladly take on this mission if it means I can stay here a little longer."
Volim spoke next, his tone sharp and brimming with menace. "My life is yours to claim, Lancelot. Either I die on this mission and take my vengeance to the grave, or I survive to see your head on a pike."
Lancelot offered a faint, knowing smile. "As I promised, Volim, you will have what you seek."
Menis, the quietest among them, placed a steadying hand on the hulking form of Damion. "We will serve, Lancelot. But only if you keep your word and help fix Damion."
"And I will," Lancelot said solemnly.
Selene's laugh was a burst of sound, sharp and amused. "What's the point of living if you don't take risks? I could be hanging off the arm of some rich noble, sipping wine in the lap of luxury, but where's the fun in that? I'm here for the thrill. They'll make statues of us one day, like the Lady of the Flesh."
Lock rolled his shoulders, his joints popping audibly as he leaned forward. "I've got debts to pay and scores to settle. If this plan takes us straight into the lion's den, so be it." He slammed his hand on the table, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Let's burn the Houses and take their treasure while they're choking on the smoke."
All eyes turned to Mirak. His thoughts churned. This was madness. Yet the idea of what lay hidden in the Palace's depths—the books, the Essences, the forbidden knowledge—was too tempting to ignore. If the Fell House had secret libraries, what secrets could the Palace hold? Could he really pass up such an opportunity? He was Publici in all but name. What choice did he truly have?
Finally, Mirak spoke. "I'll join. Not that I have much of a choice with an offer like that."
Lancelot's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "There is always a choice, Mirak. If you take anything from me, let it be that."
Mirak hesitated, then nodded firmly. "I'll do it—because I want to."
The room stilled as Czenth, the last to speak, finally broke his silence. "You ask for much, Lancelot. I'll give up an arm and more if necessary. But what do we gain from this beyond treasure?"
Lancelot's gaze locked on Czenth, sharp and unyielding. "The beginning of the fall of the Sorcerers."
Czenth's metallic threads flickered faintly, the tension in the room palpable. Then he nodded. "Your terms are too good to refuse."
Lancelot spread his arms, a flourish of triumph. "Then it's decided. The Revenant will ascend to heights no thief has ever dared. And I will unlock your Omphalos thresholds."
"Omphalos?" multiple members echoed, confusion rippling through the group.
Lancelot's voice was steady and deliberate. "Omphalos is the outward manifestation of a person's will—a power born from breaking through your limits. The creator races deemed it the perversion of Infinite Arcana, a testament to what they fear most. But I will unlock it in all of you."
The room trembled as the glass walls around them shifted, reshaping into three entrances before settling back into one. Lancelot'