"Old Man," Nia greeted with a fond smile. "How's it going?"
Thalion's projection inclined his head slightly, his voice calm and precise, tinged with faint amusement.
"Nia… still causing multiversal migraines, I see. I'm functional—currently running calculations on seventeen concurrent branch timelines. And you?"
"Same as ever," she said with a shrug. "Just wrapped up painting some noctis vampires, along with the Patriarch, Matriarch, and Princess of nocturne in red. Now I've somehow ended up in the middle of an Asura war council."
The room fell into a tense silence—every gaze fixed on the projection, on Thalion's calm, calculating figure suspended in the air as if it was his natural place.
In moments, formalities were done—his eyes swept the room once, quietly noting faces, auras, positions—before Nia leaned forward just a fraction.
"Old Man… figure out the fastest way to end this war."
Thalion hesitated—a blink of time, but enough to catch.
