Emperor Kronos stood over the shattered remains of the communication crystal. His massive star-iron armor hummed loudly, filling the grand hall with a dense, suffocating pressure. He did not immediately walk out the door.
He turned back to face Voranthar, his eyes burning with absolute disgust.
"You speak of unity and sacrifice, Voranthar," Kronos rumbled. His voice carried the weight of grinding stones. "You killed hundreds of millions of your own citizens to fuel your desperate experiments in Aethelgard. You abandoned your capital. You ran to Tarnstead with your stolen magic and your cowardly army instead of dying to defend your kingdom."
Voranthar's face flushed a deep, violent shade of red. He gripped the edges of the war table tightly, the wood splintering under his fingers.
