Instantly silence, the room in the North Celestial Lord's domain turned dead silent, with the kind of stillness that leaned heavily on the chest, as every one of them stood before the man, awaiting his further command. Lumina was poised, expression cold and inscrutable as the void, while the other three shifted under the weight of this moment.
The North Celestial Lord raised his hand, and his finger pointed determinately at the red-haired Centric. "Centric," his voice boomed with the weight of his authority, rumbled within the chamber like the peal of a war drum.
Centric came forward, slow and calculated movements; placing his right hand against his chest, he bowed. "Yes, North Celestial Lord," he said in a calm and respectful tone.
"Give me feedback on the task I assigned to you," the North Celestial Lord demanded, his words cold and incisive, like a blade.
