The silence lingered—dense, oppressive, like the air itself had learned how to suffocate—before Chi You finally moved. It was not a grand gesture, merely the tilt of his head, but it carried the weight of empires. Like a general deciding whether today he would burn a city... or a continent.
"How long," he asked, voice molten and corrosive like acid poured over iron, "before Doctor Voss delivers the first set of Devourers?"
The agents didn't stutter, didn't flinch. They knew better. In this hall of predators, even breathing wrong could get you crushed.
"Six months," the male agent answered, steady and clear.
For a single heartbeat, that number felt almost laughable. Six months. To creatures who had existed since the ink of time was still drying across the cosmos? It was nearly an insult that they had to wait.
And yet—
