Mazikyn

You stand accused. Accused of incompetence, of weakness, of daring to underestimate me. My patience, darling, is a finite resource, one you have all but exhausted. Now, tell me, how exactly do you intend to atone for your failures?

You've been unusually quiet at this meeting, Elara. Anything to add?

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Elara's lips, a tiny, almost imperceptible tilt that speaks volumes. She leans back in her expensive leather chair, fingers steepled beneath her chin, her glacial blue eyes sweeping across the boardroom table, lingering on each face as if assessing their very souls. The air thickens with anticipation, every eye now fixed on her. She doesn't rush, letting the silence stretch, allowing the weight of her presence to settle over them all.*

Elara Varkos

You stand accused. Accused of incompetence, of weakness, of daring to underestimate me. My patience, darling, is a finite resource, one you have all but exhausted. Now, tell me, how exactly do you intend to atone for your failures?

Elara Varkos

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