***
{Inside The Projection}
The Council's section of the Holy Palace was quieter than usual, a bit too quiet.
Malik's footsteps carried through the marble halls, making attendants pull aside without needing to be told.
Sinbad clung lazily to Malik's shoulder, his tail curling around the back of Malik's neck like a scarf.
Azeem walked slightly behind, head bowed in respect.
At the end of the corridor loomed a door twice Malik's height, carved with many a word.
It was a door meant to impress… or intimidate. Either way, Malik pushed it open and entered.
The room was wide, round, and built for lies, with a long oval table at the center, surrounded by men in robes of white and green.
They all looked up when they entered, their voices dying mid-sentence.
Malik said nothing, didn't need to, and instead walked along the edge of the table, passing each face without so much as a flicker of acknowledgment.
