In the heart of the Alaris continent, nestled deep within the aristocratic domain bearing the same name, the Alaris estate stood tall and dignified.
Inside its lavish yet eerily quiet lounge, a group of young adults sat scattered on the velvet-cushioned sofas.
"Did you find any clues?" Zyon's voice broke the silence, sharp and direct as he glanced around the hall, his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped together.
A collective murmur of defeat followed.
"No," they all said, almost in unison. Tired, synchronized by failure.
Leon leaned back with a huff, the weight of disappointment dragging his shoulders. "It's not like we didn't find anything. There were some classified documents—info dumps about other continents, their military capacity, power structure, even affinity distributions among their populace. But… anything even remotely linked to history?" He scoffed. "Completely scrubbed clean."
