The gates to the royal hall stood before them.
Tall. Black. Carved with ancient engravings that seemed to shift under the torchlight.
William stopped. Without any effort, he extended a hand forward, inviting the group inside.
The doors were already wide open. As if they had been waiting for them.
"...Please, come in."
Max stood still for a second. He looked into the hall. Long. Dark. Too vast. Then he shook his head.
"...I'll stay out here."
He hadn't even taken a step back when he heard a voice.
"I would appreciate it if you came in."
The voice echoed from the far end of the hall.
Deep and imposing. Impossible to ignore.
"I want to see your face… when I tell you what I have to say."
Max's body tensed.
A chill ran down his spine.
…another fight was coming.
Of course, that's what he thought.
His hands tightened around the hammer.
Azael didn't hesitate. He stepped forward first.
"...Father."
His voice rang firm as he crossed the threshold.
