[Council Meeting]
Tension hung in the air of the meeting room where the heads of the founding families gathered. Everyone's expression was grim, except Atlas, who wore the same straight face… even with a few guns pointed in his direction.
Guards present in the room — who usually weren't allowed inside this very chamber — had their rifles aimed at him.
Sybil, on the other hand, was seated in the corner. Unfazed by the weapons pointed around her, she held her own small pistol at the chairman of the council. Her lips curled up, the wrinkles on her face deepening with her smile.
"Apologies," Sybil broke the prolonged silence, eyeing the chairman. "However, you do not raise your toys at my master and expect me to stay down."
She chuckled. "I may be old, but I do not mind taking another life with my last breath."
Her eyelids drooped as she quietly turned her head in Atlas's direction. She didn't feel the need to fire yet for one reason.
