To the intense gaze of Pontiff Valerius and the Cult of Four, the three leaders of Atlantis appeared to be locked in a profound, mystical trance. Their eyes were closed, their breathing synchronized, suggesting a high-level secret technique used to deliberate on the fate of nations.
In reality, they were just shit-posting in the public channel of the Survivor's Platform.
It was the one place where their conversation couldn't be intercepted.
[Leonidas]: Holy crap. Holy crap! You guys are not going to believe this. I'm actually going to be a Pontiff. A real damn Pontiff!
Leonidas's frantic message acted like a depth charge, blowing the lurking members out of the water.
[Alexander]: Have you lost your mind?
To Alexander, this sounded like the beginning of a bad joke—or worse, a mental breakdown. Was Leonidas about to pull a Clown and lose his sanity?
[Isabella]: Alexander, if he defects, I'm taking him out. Permission to engage?
