A skytear flashed wildly beyond the window of the highest tower in the great Palace of Eden. It coiled and thrashed like a serpent, raging against the sky itself. With each lick against the pale red sky, a flash of yellow sparked so brightly that it could be seen even by those crossing the Storm of Phobos. Emperor Worthright stood at the window, watching the beautiful and deadly arc of light as it raged. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Mr. Bedlam’s failure on Gahldor. Not once in over eight-hundred years had the Empire ever faced a credible threat. Now, thanks to Mr. Bedlam’s arrogance, some pathetic Lesser girl was going to bring it all crashing to the ground.
The Emperor turned from the window and calmly strode over to the desk near his bed. He pressed a small button beneath the tabletop and in seconds a group of Centurions arrived, standing perfectly still in the doorway, awaiting orders.