Varen stood at the podium, watching the chaos unfold with weary resignation.
But before the chaos could solidify into action, before delegations could issue demands or scientists could request data, movement shattered the fragile order.
An old man stood. Mid-seventies, liver spots visible on trembling hands, breath wheezed from decades of smoking. Nobody important. A functionary sent to observe, not decide.
But his eyes...
His eyes burned with something feral.
"Immortality," he whispered. Then louder. "IMMORTALITY!"
He ran.
Not the careful shuffle of elderly dignity. A full sprint. Desperation turned his arthritic joints fluid, adrenaline overriding pain as he charged the podium.
The room froze. Security half-rose, uncertain. Was this an attack? A medical emergency?
Varen watched him come. Surprised but still. Calculating. His hand didn't move toward the vial. He simply... observed.
The old man's fingers closed around the Golden Catalyst.
"No... " someone started.
