As the heavy shock rippled through the theater, Tide's booming voice cut through the whispers.
"You won't be getting a complete tower, as shown by the scale... but," Tide rumbled, a sharp glint in his eye.
Before the paragon could process the disappointment, a brilliant ray of light shot directly from Tide's hand, striking the floating figure. With clenched fists and a racing heart, the paragon willingly opened his mind to the stream of data.
"A trade can be made," Tide finished smoothly.
The paragon fought desperately to maintain a neutral mask, tightening his jaw to keep a victorious smile from breaking across his face. He tried to lock down every outward expression of joy, but he was standing in a theater filled with paragons who lived for reading micro-expressions.
As he turned and flew back down to his cloud-seat, dozens of narrowed, calculating eyes tracked his movement.
