Noon, local time.
The rainy season.
In Surt's Stereoscopic City, the downpour gathered into a raging torrent within the drainage system, surging violently.
Even in the relatively enclosed room, the muffled roar of the rain outside could still be heard.
After the last of the attendees had entered, three standard three-man tactical squads dispatched by the Vengeful Angels Second Company stood guard in the entrance hallway. When the heavy, three-hundred-year-old doors closed, the closed-door meeting, held under the shadow of war, officially began.
No matter what excuses some of the backtracking Local Lords tried to find, or how their Guard Knights drew their swords in loud protest, all their vicious posturing and rebukes ultimately dissolved into the same silence when faced with the two Holy Fire Guards standing before the door like statues. Anxiously, they would return to their seats.
In times of war, the right to speak has always belonged to the strong.
