The atmosphere inside the hidden chamber had completely changed. Gone was the confidence they had carried only days ago. Panic had taken its place. The woman paced back and forth while the two men stood over a table covered in maps and reports.
"He wasn't supposed to move yet," she snapped. "He was supposed to spend months recovering." One of the men looked equally unsettled.
"That was the prediction." He said silently, but he did not sound alarmed at all
"Your prediction was wrong," she hissed. The older man, clearly the one in charge, slammed a hand onto the table hard enough to silence them both.
"Enough. Panicking won't solve anything." His eyes settled on the younger man. "Tell me the truth. Is the project ready?" The younger man's face paled.
"No, my Lord," He said, bowing deeply. Silence followed.
"How long?" the leader asked.
"At least two weeks." The room became deathly still. Then the older man's expression darkened.
"You don't have two weeks."
