Raya

The air in the council chamber was thick with the scent of incense, an elegant mask for the rot beneath. Hidden behind the paper screen, Raya pressed herself into the shadows, her breath slow and controlled. The clan's sigil, stitched into every tapestry, loomed above the council: a serpent devouring its own tail.

Her uncle's voice cut through the silence first, low and measured, like the draw of a blade across silk. "We have fulfilled every quota, as agreed. Our shipments pass through the portal without delay."

A colder voice answered, laced with the detached cruelty only a Voidian could command. "Quotas mean little if loyalty falters, Elder Tenshu. The next offering will not be resources... but force; gift us the lineage of your warriors. The Voidian Council does not tolerate hesitation-"

Raya's brows furrowed. The weight of centuries-old honor, of theatrical legends told by firelight, now bartered away like livestock. Her hand slipped, brushing against an iron wind chime tucked in the rafters. A single note sang out; clear, fragile, and sharp as a dagger's point.

The conversation shattered into silence. A rush of movement, the scrape of chairs on wood. "Who's there?" Tenshu's voice snapped, suddenly rigid with fear.

But Raya was already gone, swallowed by shadow, leaving behind only the cold echo of betrayal ringing in the air.