The aftermath of the Whisper Auction was like the quiet before a supernova. Raidan stood at the edge of the high balcony overlooking the transit docks of the Consortium's inner sanctum. Cargo drones zipped through magnetic lanes, each tagged with secure credentials and tracking signals. His recently acquired relic—The Eternal Crown of Xanthe—rested in a sealed containment cube guarded by a force field that shimmered with flickers of indigo light. But even as he stared into its impossible geometry, his mind was elsewhere.
He hadn't slept. Not because he couldn't—but because he didn't want to.
