The Field of Skulls did not react to Nero's collapse.
It continued existing exactly as it had before—unbothered, unchanging, indifferent to the small fraction of life struggling inside it.
Bone dust hung in the air in dense suspension, so fine it behaved less like particulate matter and more like atmosphere. Every breath taken here carried weight. Every exhale added to it. The survivors were not escaping it. They were only delaying accumulation.
Nero stood slightly apart from the group.
Not by choice, but by natural spacing.
Kua and Nobe occupied the functional center of attention, and everyone else unconsciously adjusted around that gravity. Survivors clustered in uneven rings across fractured bone terrain, forming unstable pockets of temporary rest.
He was akin to more of an anomaly.
The other nobles did not recognize him, and yet, he was much stronger than the commoner candidates.
The strange glances on him did no help whatsoever.
In reality, no one was relaxed.
