Revenge: A Path of Destruction

In a room that was dim and heavy with mana, as each breath weighed down by the air itself. A single enchanted crystal lit the obsidian walls, casting distorted shadows over the four figures at the long table.

At the head sat a red-haired man, eyes sharp, grin sharper. "We’ve waited long enough. Tonight, we move. Swift and clean. No survivors."

Across from him, the bulky man sat silent. Calm, ready. He didn’t need to speak—his presence said enough.

To the right, a slim man leaned back, fingers tapping the chair’s arm. He stayed quiet, posture tight, eyes avoiding contact.

The red-haired man turned to him. "Quiet. Cold feet?"

The slim man straightened. "Not at all. I just don’t care for dramatics."

A mocking laugh followed. "You always try to act above it. Just don’t think you can coast while the rest of us do the work."

Jaw clenched, the slim man replied, "If I commit, I follow through. Don’t mistake silence for weakness."

The bulky man glanced at them, unbothered.

Then the woman spoke, cutting the tension. "Enough. Focus. If we’re using the Orb, the Stone, and the jammer, containment needs to be flawless."

The red-haired man gestured to the slim one. "He’ll handle it. Orb and Stone—simple enough."